


Genuine callers only

by Damsel in Shining Armour (Damsel_in_shining_armour)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (or is he), Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Office, Bottom Dean Winchester, Businessman Castiel, Cock Warming, Cock Worship, Developing Relationship, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con (NOT between Castiel and Dean), Knotting, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Minor Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Dean Winchester, Oral Fixation, Porn With Plot, Protective Dean Winchester, References to Addiction, Sex Work (of sorts), Smut, Sub Dean, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester, dean winchester on a plane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-02-22 15:09:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 54,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22717972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damsel_in_shining_armour/pseuds/Damsel%20in%20Shining%20Armour
Summary: Dean's as alpha as they come, but he's also broke, he just lost his position as a mechanic and he needs a job desperately. So when he finds a job listing offering a position as personal omega companion to one Castiel Novak, well, he doesn't hesitate for very long before he picks up the phone.The job is of ‘intimate nature’, which means it’s not always glamorous, but turns out that working for Cas definitely has its perks.Now, if only Dean could manage to hide the fact that he's actually an alpha...//‘Have a good night, Dean’ Cas says, voice rough, as he hits the button to close the doors. Dean stands in front of the closed elevator for a few seconds before his brain goes back online and he drags himself away towards his own room. God, Castiel’s going to kill him one of these days. Either that, or he’s going to fuck him. Dean knows which one to hope for.//ABO but non-traditional. This is a story about an alpha-alpha couple. That having been said, you'll find the usual tropes, including power imbalances, the occasional dub-con moment and whatever the equivalent of sexism is in these kind of fics.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 324
Kudos: 1023





	1. Biting the bullet

**Author's Note:**

> Hiyaaa!  
> This story has been burning a hole in my brain since I started thinking about the fact that I really like stories where both Cas and Dean are alphas. And there aren't enough of those around, so here we are!  
> I have actually written the whole thing already, so it's done and you'll see the end. I will post an update pretty much every week - sometimes earlier, depending how fast I am with my editing. I also have another story going at the moment, so I will try and balance the two things.  
> I haven't divided it in chapters yet, but I'm anticipating having around 10.  
> I would love to hear your opinion on this, I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> Xx

Dean stares at the ad listing he bookmarked two days ago. It must be the tenth time he reads it, trying to find the courage to either apply or delete the damn thing from his browser. Dean’s excuses have run out, together with his money and his luck. He’s been laid off from Gordon’s garage and his shifts at the Roadhouse just don’t pay enough. He makes less than two hundred bucks a week and that barely covers rent and utilities, let alone petrol or clothes or, you know, actual food. Perhaps it’s stupid, but the thing that’s stopped him from applying to this kind of jobs so far has mostly been the voice of his father ringing loudly in his head and telling him how ‘a real Winchester alpha’ should behave. How he should never beg for work and never do one of those stupid omega jobs. Which is always kind of ironic since Dean’s basically been doing all the traditional chores around the house since he was able to wield a knife and a pan.

But he remembers well that time John left them for the whole summer and when he came back and found Dean working as a server at the alpha bar he threw a right fit. Dean can still see with his mind’s eye the anger and embarrassment on his father’s face when confronted with the fact that Dean’s colleagues were all pretty omegas and that his _alpha_ son was going around serving drinks in a sorta skimpy outfit like them and he had been doing it for weeks and getting tipped pretty well for it too. It didn’t matter how much Dean had protested that they had ran out of money pretty much three months before and that it wasn’t his fault this was the only job he’d found. John had made it clear that stealing and hustling would be preferable.

The point of the matter though is that stealing is _not_ preferable. Not when you’ve got a sixteen year old brother at home depending on your income to survive and maybe, just maybe, to go to college one day. Dean can’t afford to go to prison. Besides, he’s confident in his presentation, he knows he’s an alpha, he doesn’t need to prove it to anyone and taking jobs typically for omega is not going to make his knot disappear. John’s ghost can scream in his head all he wants.

_Private companion required for male Alpha professional (34 years of age). Main duties include intimate relief, six days a week minimum, pay non-negotiable. Genuine callers only._

Dean has seen hundreds of ads like this before, all with varying degrees of subtlety. Some of them just slap a big capitalised ‘COCKWARMER WANTED’ on it but Dean likes to imagine that the more discreet the ad, the less likely it is that the dude is going to be sleazy. He figures that he’s done worse things to put food on the table and if it’s a perfectly acceptable job for an omega (no one bats an eye when _they_ do it), why not for an alpha? He’s got a working mouth just like anyone else. Plus, the pay is excellent. A bit too good to be true, in fact. Dean is for sure going to have a lot of competition.

There’s still that niggling feeling that tells him he’ll be a failure of an alpha if he does this. Mostly because of the idea of what it means to be a successful alpha, an idea which is ubiquitous, from TV to billboards to the lives of the rich as broadcasted by the media. He’s the one who’s supposed to be wearing a business suit, have perfectly combed hair, a powerful gorgeous car and a gorgeous omega companion at his feet to worship him – not vice versa. He’s never really seen the appeal of the omega private companions, but he knows it’s basically a must in certain spheres, old habits die… never. Well, at least he has the powerful gorgeous car part down.

When Sam tells him he needs to buy yet another book for school, Dean finally bites the bullet and applies by calling the number in the ad and just like that he’s got an interview scheduled for three days later, the woman on the phone telling him to bring some references and some ID. Where does one even get references for that? Like, maybe he should ask Benny and he’d go like _yeah, he can suck dick like a pro ma’am, of course I’m happy to put that in writing. Real hard worker, real dedicated to the cause._ He shakes his head and picks up the phone to call Ellen. He'll tell her to keep it generic.

The day of the actual interview Dean puts on industrial strength scent blockers and leaves the house, confident that no one will be able to tell if he’s an alpha or just a rather tall omega. He needs to work on his posture, but he’s pretty sure he can pull that off. The ad didn’t even specify that they were looking for an omega, but he figures it’s implied.  
He still doesn’t know the name of his potential employer but when he arrives at the address he was given his jaw goes slack. The mansion (because that’s what it is, ‘house’ not even coming close to describing the place) is white and towering, with some sort of colonnade at the front, and a driveway that goes on forever. He’s now starting to understand the hefty paycheck.

He walks up the steps and there’s a young omega walking out just as he readies himself to knock and Dean knows immediately that he must be his competition. If this is the kind of person they are looking for, he has no chances. The boy looks like he’s barely legal and he’s decidedly a twink, all long thin limbs and big brown eyes. At twenty three Dean must be just a few years older than him, but he feels like he could be his dad nonetheless. The boy shoots him a glare and hurries down the steps, not bothering to say a word. He smells so sweet it almost makes Dean sneeze. Dean swallows, then nods to himself.

‘Ah, you must be Mr Winchester’  
‘Yes ma’am, that’s me’  
‘Come on in, you’re the last candidate for the day so we don’t need to rush’  
The woman who’s ushered him in must be in her late fifties, hair tied up in a neat bun with streaks of grey mixed in with the black. She has a stern sort of energy about her, her back’s ramrod straight and her court heels click-clack on the marble floor as she walks away from Dean, gesturing for him to follow her.  
‘Did you receive a lot of applicants?’ Dean asks, wondering who he’s up against.  
‘A remarkable amount, yes.’  
Right.  
She takes a seat behind a large office desk and invites Dean to a chair. The whole place is tastefully decorated, with dark furniture, big bunches of fresh flowers scattered around, old looking portraits hanging from the wood-paneled walls. It makes Dean feel like he’s done something wrong.  
‘Before we begin, may I see your ID?’  
Dean passes it to her silently and observes as she scans it and prints a copy.  
‘Apologies for this, but one can never be too cautious. You don’t look underage, but we have had too many applicants come in to interview when they’re not even eighteen, so now it’s standard procedure’  
Dean nods, kind of glad that they are taking the time to check and care. It makes him feel slightly better about the whole thing.  
‘So, tell me, Dean. Why did you apply to this job?’  
Dean has prepared a few answers, all along the line of the same bullshit stuff ‘I enjoy taking care of people, blah blah, I am very attentive to others' needs, blah blah, I like feeling useful’. He can see the woman take notes attentively, but he can also tell he’s not impressing her so far. She hasn’t smiled once since he’s arrived and he’s starting to feel nervous.

It’s been a good half an hour until she sits back and puts her pen away, folding her arms across her chest and staring at him.  
‘Dean, I have interviewed at least twelve omegas today.’ She says, and her tone is very different from the one she used for the mindless questioning until now ‘All of them came in smelling significantly of young, fertile, attractive omega. Some of them, I suspect, even wore scent enhancers trying to make themselves more appealing. Why did you choose to wear scent blockers today, while interviewing to be an intimate companion?’  
Dean gulps, but he’s prepared an answer for this too.  
‘This job is not about me. I am here to provide a service, I am not here to entice a potential mate. I think my scent, whether it is considered pleasant or not, can only be a distraction and, I think, my point here is to provide the opposite effect.’  
He fucking _knows_ how this stuff works. He’s an alpha for god’s sake, if he’s got to have an advantage over those (probably more qualified) omegas is that he knows how alphas think. Firsthand. Especially about having a sweet-smelling sex on a stick guy around the whole day. If this guy needs him for business meetings, having a dripping omega at your feet is not going to make him sharper, just the opposite. If this guy just needs to get off in order to have a clear head, though, it’ll be different. There’s still a chance the guy wants someone who smells very ‘omega’ in order to impress some big hotshot business associates, but Dean has a good feeling about this.  
‘You know, Dean, you might actually be the person we are looking for’ Naomi responds, leaning back in her chair and looking pleased for the first time. Dean swallows and does his best to look excited to be at the receiving end of that cold smile.

‘This would be your room were you required to stay over at the mansion. Castiel spends his free time at his own house, but here’s where we conduct business and so he spends much of his time here. All of these things you see now will be removed, of course. They belonged to the previous employee’ she explains, while she gives him a tour of the house ‘But he has proven himself… no longer suitable for the position. He left in a hurry, but we’ll get someone to clean up for you.’ Dean’s curious so he tries to find a way to sate his curiosity while still coming across as professional ‘Why did he leave? I mean, I am just trying to make sure I don’t repeat his same mistakes.’ Her mouth becomes a thin line ‘I sincerely hope you won’t. Inias became infatuated with Castiel and overstepped his bounds too many times. But from the fact that you wear blockers I can tell you’re not going to be that kind of person.’ Yeah, Dean almost laughs. That's one thing we can at least be sure about.

What he’s getting from all this is that he’s probably going to get hired, if he wants the job. The woman, Naomi (she _finally_ introduced herself) says that Castiel is going to want to meet him before making a decision and Dean’s looking forward to that, too. He compromised with himself and decided he’ll draw a line at sucking old wrinkly alpha balls, so he wants to see the man in person before judging. He knows the guy’s supposedly only 34, but he can still be a wrinkly 34 year old, surely?  
Tour over, Naomi leads him to a large door at the end of a corridor. She knocks on the door and enters without waiting for a reply.  
‘Castiel. This is Dean. I think the two of you should meet.’

  
And _wow._ Dean almost takes a step back. The man sitting behind the desk is gorgeous. Dean almost does a double take, and checks to see if there’s anyone else in the room and maybe he got the wrong person. Nope, the guy’s alone. He’s got a beautifully angular face, with nice chapped-looking lips and a sexy five o’ clock shadow. His hair looks artfully mussed and his _eyes!_ Dean’s mental soliloquy gets interrupted as the man opens his mouth.  
‘Ah, Dean. Please come in. pleasure to meet you, I am Castiel’ and he rises from his desk, walking around it to offer Dean his hand.  
Correction: the man is gorgeous _and_ his voice is a rumble that drips pure sex _and_ he smells incredible. _  
_As they get closer, the scent hits Dean in the face like a slap, because he’s never found another alpha’s smell attractive but Castiel so clearly doesn’t smell of omega either, which is what Dean’s used to like. This is very confusing. And, damn, he also feels a sort of pang of compassion for the poor omega he’s replacing who got booted out because he fell in love with Castiel. Were Dean an omega, he muses, he’d probably fall for the man as well. Well, at least this means he won't be getting so aggressive at smelling another alpha's scent that he will want to bite his knot off. He can tell that Castiel is discreetly trying to scent him out as well, but he doesn’t comment on his fully neutral smell and Dean doesn’t offer any explanations. The man regards him for a few seconds and then smiles appraisingly. Dean just thinks he probably wouldn’t even care if his balls were wrinkly.

Once the job offer is explicitly on the table, they agree on the salary (easy, since it was non-negotiable but still better than what Dean made at the garage), the fact that Dean’s going to sign an NDA, and discuss the hours. Dean’s supposed to be working 8am-12pm every day and then 2pm-8pm, plus he’s required to attend all social events Castiel will go to. He has one free day a week, but it might rotate based on Castiel’s calendar. It’s a lot of hours and it’s not ideal, especially with Sam to take care of, but the money’s worth it and so Dean doesn’t complain. When he leaves the house that afternoon he’s still reeling and the whole thing feels unreal. He just hopes it’s not too good to be true.

The next morning, Dean wakes up at dawn. He’s barely slept a wink, too nervous about what lies ahead. Dean’s sucked some alpha dicks for money before in his time (who hasn’t) but it was always in secret, rushed, in alleyways or gas stations. This is a whole new level of intense. He can’t just _leave_ after, it’s a long term task and he needs to commit. Dean’s never been one for commitment, but he is one for hard work, so he figures he’ll try his best. He ain’t squeamish about sex either, the opposite in fact - a dick's a dick - but it’s the subservience that’s probably going to be a challenge for him. Still, he needs the money and a job’s a job. At least, that’s what he tries to tell himself all night to calm himself down enough so that he falls asleep. It doesn’t work very well.  
He cooks breakfast for Sam before he heads out and tells the kid that he’s trying a new job as a gardener for some rich folks and the kid is so excited when he hears about it that it’s hard to lie to him. Still, he’d rather not tell Sam the truth, or the kid will definitely throw a fit about him not needing to do this just for him and yadda yadda yadda. He douses himself in blockers again and then heads out, gritting his teeth the whole drive over trying to keep his composure.

It’s Naomi again who welcomes him into the house and gives him some ground rules before they start.  
‘You’re not supposed to talk unless Castiel addresses you. In which case you should call him sir. Don’t take initiative, just obey his instructions. Other people should never interact with you but if they do just defer to Castiel. Please wear appropriate discreet clothing in case you get aroused, do not embarrass Castiel in front of anybody. You should be inconspicuous at all times. You know you’ve done your job correctly if nobody notices you. Is that clear?’  
‘Yes, ma’am’  
‘Alright, you may go in then’ she gestures at the door and just stands there, arms crossed, waiting to see him go in. Jeeze, this woman’s running a prison camp or what? It’s not like he’d just take off with the jewellery if left unsupervised for two fucking seconds. If she notices his annoyance, she doesn’t seem fazed and just stares at him unblinkingly.

Dean knocks on Castiel’s door and hears the voice telling him to come in. Here goes then. Dean's first foray into the cockwarming scene.


	2. Rookie mistake number one

‘Ah, Dean, good morning. I trust you slept well?’ just like yesterday, the man’s dressed in a perfectly pressed suit and he gets up from his desk to welcome him when Dean steps forward. Already much better at manners (or, well, just at being human) than Naomi.   
‘Yes, sir’ Dean lies, unsure to what extent he’s allowed to make conversation.   
‘Please come here and make yourself comfortable. There’s a pillow on the floor, try it out and if it’s too soft or too hard let me know and we’ll change it for tomorrow.’   
Castiel’s voice is kind and carries a hint of warmth and Dean knows it’s just an instinctual attempt at making the omega feel comfortable. The odd thing that it works even if Dean’s an alpha.   
He makes his way to the desk and suddenly he’s feeling a bit awkward and inexperienced, so he just drops to his knees and shuffles back until he’s mostly hidden behind the desk. Castiel smiles down at him as he brings his chair forward. He doesn’t unzip his fly or give any instruction ton Dean, so he just kneels there quietly, mindful of Naomi’s warning not to take initiative.   
‘Feel free to get acquainted with my scent, Dean. We’re not in any rush. When you’re ready please begin your services and I’ll let you know if there’s anything I need’   
Ah, another omega-coddling moment then. He doesn’t really need to get acquainted with Castiel’s scent, he’s just doing his best not to roll in it at the moment, so he thinks he should just go straight to the source. He unzips Castiel’s slacks and gently extracts the alpha’s soft dick. He notices with a grumble that he’s more sizeable than Dean, but then tries to ignore it. He then shuffles forward and opens his mouth. _Here we go then,_ he thinks, before gently closing his lips around Castiel, sliding him all the way back into his mouth and throat and just… holding him there.

Castiel relaxes on the chair and goes back to his business. Dean stays as still as he can as the minutes tick by. It’s really weird, Dean thinks. He’s never done cockwarming before, understandably, and his instincts are screaming at him to just go to town and make Castiel hard and give him the best head he’ll ever have. But this is not why he’s here. He knows that for omegas this is a very relaxing exercise, something in their biology making them go all soft and calm at having an alpha’s scent so powerfully pressed against their faces. But Dean can’t calm down. He’s not anxious, but he’s nervous and agitated, itching to _do_ something.   
He manages to keep steady for another indefinite amount of time, before Castiel finally intervenes.   
‘Dean?’ he asks, gently. Dean looks up and Castiel is looking down at him with a frown etched between his eyebrows. Ah, _fuck._ He’s gone and ruined this already. Stupid him for thinking he could just pretend to be something he was not, stupid him for faking experience, stupid, stupid, stupid.  
  
‘Dean, are you alright?’ Castiel asks, concerned and that makes Dean feel even worse.   
He pops off, supposing the other man needs a verbal answer.   
‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir, it’s just… been a while’ he lies ‘Bit nervous about doing this with someone new’ he offers a pained smile, self-deprecatingly.   
Castiel just nods ‘It’s completely understandable. I really do not wish to make you uncomfortable. What about just resting your head on my thigh for today? So we can get better acquainted with one another and you can get used to me?’   
Shit, that sounds... ideal actually.   
‘Are you sure?’ Dean asks, still feeling like he doesn’t deserve it. He’d prefer to lie and push through, but he knows that if he fucks up again there’s a good chance he’s going to be sent away and bye bye money. ‘I feel like it’s unfair to you, this isn’t why I’m here’   
Castiel just shakes his head   
‘I take rut suppressants, have no important business meetings today and I do like to think I have a pretty good grip on myself. I don’t need an omega to keep a clear head, I have done so while we were looking for a replacement for my previous assistant, after all. One more day makes no difference to me’   
Dean can’t help but ask ‘Why do you need me at all then?’ he realises that sounds more confrontational than it should and does his best impression at looking contrite. Never very believable on Dean Winchester.   
  
Castiel though huffs out a laugh and doesn’t seem offended ‘Truth be told, it’s more for appearances than anything else. You know how it is. But it does help when I’m stressed or worked up and my job is… often stressful. Still, please go back to just scenting me for today Dean. I will require nothing else from you’ and those words sound final, so Dean just nods and tucks Castiel back in his pants. Then he gingerly places his head on the man’s thigh and tries to relax. He focuses on his breathing and on inhaling Castiel’s scent. It should actually do the opposite of relaxing him since he’s another alpha, but he does find it so appealing that he loses himself in it. At first his thoughts are scrambled, jumping madly from his last shift at the roadhouse to Sammy to his dad to everything else. But gradually, they slow down, they become less focused and more like fuzzy impressions. He finds his body relaxing too and he eventually lets the weight of his whole head rest on Castiel’s thigh – he hadn’t even realised how much he was trying to hold himself up as not to weigh too much on the man. He doesn’t even jump when Castiel runs a hand through his hair, clearly a soothing gesture meant as praise, but arranges himself more comfortably and just… stays.

A few hours later he gets dragged out of his torpor when someone comes to tell Castiel that his lunch is served. This means Dean should be off the hook for a few hours.   
‘Dean’ he asks, gently, after Dean has stood up ‘I was wondering if you’d like to join me at lunch today.’ Before Dean can answer, he holds up his hands ‘I know you’ve got some free time to yourself now and if you have other plans please do feel free to say no. I just thought it’d be a good way of getting to know each other a bit better so we can get more relaxed during out workday together.’  
Dean frowns, unsure on what the code of behaviour is in these situations. ‘I mean, if you’re sure?’ he asks ‘Naomi made it clear this morning that I’m not supposed to chat with you or anyone else here, really’   
Castiel frowns visibly ‘Yeah, she would do that, I suppose.’ He grumbles ‘Naomi is just following procedures. But don’t worry, Dean. You will not get in any troubles, considering I am your boss and technically you should only answer to me. The offer stands’ he throws a wink in the mix and how can Dean resist?  
 _Well, it’s free food, too_ – Dean thinks, and agrees.

‘I hope you’re not a vegetarian?’ Castiel asks, once they’re sitting in a large sleek kitchen (Dean was worried for a second, he thought they’d end up in a weird medieval dining hall or something, but they’re even sitting on the island stools, so those fears can be put to rest).  
‘I am partial to vegetables myself, but I treat myself to beef once a week’   
‘Hell yeah, I’m a beef man’ Dean says, thankfully that he’s not just going to eat rabbit food.   
‘Good to know’ Castiel says and there’s the ghost of a smirk on those chapped lips.   
‘What is your story, Dean? Are you from around here?’   
‘Nah’ Dean replies, mouth full of delicious delicious beef, _holy fuck that’s good._ ‘Was Born in Kansas, travelled all around with my old man until he took off, but got some people here who count as family so I stayed. My brother loves it here anyway so it’s good enough for me’   
‘Oh? Do you live with your brother?’   
‘Yeah, the little squirt’s sixteen. Damn well on his way to be taller than me, too. All gangly and uncoordinated like a moose version of Bambi on ice.’ Dean snickers. Castiel smiles ‘My cousin Balthazar was like that. My brothers teased him so much that he took up going to the gym to buff up, got obsessed with it and now owns a chain of gyms all over the country. Sometimes familial bullying does work.’   
Dean smiles wide, ignoring the casual mention of how fucking _loaded_ Castiel’s family must be. Dean’s not gonna lie, it’s a bit strange to be making small talk like that with a guy whose dick will literally be in Dean’s mouth all day every day, but Castiel’s got a good energy about him. He doesn’t offer much about himself after the mention of his cousin but he seems genuinely interested in hearing what Dean has to say. Dean’s not stupid, he’s a businessman which means he must be second nature for him to make other people trust and like him, but still better than being stuck with a rude dickhead.

‘That’s what I always tell Sammy, too! I’m just doing this for his own good, kid’s gonna take some shit before he learns how to dish it out himself.’   
‘Is it just the two of you then?’ Castiel asks, looking down at the asparagus he’s stabbing with his fork. ‘Or did you mention you have some family in the area?’  
‘Yep. My folks are gone, but we do have some family friends here which count as family. ‘s how we got here in the first place.’ He chews, thinking about how much he can say ‘But I'm the only real family he has and gotta take care of the little bitch, he’s real smart, gonna see him all the way to college one day and I’ll be damned if he can’t go just because I couldn’t put something together for him’ he says, pride obvious in his voice. He knows he talks about his brother a lot on a good day, but he’s not as clueless as some people like to think. Everything he’s saying is true but it’s not without a reason. He’s hoping that Castiel will pick on the hints he’s dropping and that he can be sufficiently guilt-tripped into considering letting Dean stay for the long-term, even though Dean’s obviously not very experienced at this. He tries to act nonchalant and when Castiel doesn’t say anything he dares to sneak a glance at the other man.   
‘You are… very colourful in your use of language’ Castiel says and Dean balks. This is not the response he was expecting. _Oh shit._ In all of this he forgot to act like the bashful omega he’s supposed to be. He also forgot to shut his trap and stop talking like he did at the garage. His blood goes a little cold and he stares at Castiel, trying to gauge whether he’s going to get kicked out or not.   
‘Shit, sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight. You understand now why Naomi wanted me quiet probably’ he adds, with a self-deprecating chuckle which he hopes will soothe Castiel.  
But the guy doesn’t look snooty or angry, he’s just staring at him with a placid smile ‘It wasn’t a complaint, Dean. I find you quite refreshing actually’ and then he just goes back to stabbing his asparagus. _Huh._

Dean has about an hour after lunch before he needs to go back to Castiel’s office, but there’s no point driving all the way home and back since it’s a half an hour drive each way anyway, so he takes the opportunity to sneak around the big mansion and explore it while Naomi is nowhere to be seen. He finds a library and tries to remember when the last time he could just sit down and read was. He grabs something by Vonnegut (which he’s read before, but it’s one of the few names he recognises) and settles down in one of the big armchairs. Satisfied, he thinks this can become a real pleasant routine.

When he goes back to Castiel’s office, Naomi is there and she turns when he opens the door but doesn’t acknowledge him and doesn’t stop speaking, even though she stares at him. He knows he better be the perfect employee, so he ducks his head, stares at his feet and quickly makes his way to where Castiel is sitting. Her eyes stay well trained on him, he can feel them on his skin, as he kneels and tries to partially hide himself from her sight behind Castiel’s desk. It doesn’t work entirely because it’s open at the bottom (probably for the precise reason of putting him on display) but at least his face should be hidden.   
‘…and I also think you need to take a better look at ‘the situation’, Castiel. I will not tolerate this happening any longer. You must figure this out.’   
Dean shuffles forward, unsure on what to do. Castiel said he didn’t require his services for today, but that was mostly to make him feel more comfortable and Dean not only feels better now, but also doesn’t want Naomi to think he’s slacking. He figures that if Castiel wants him to stop, he will. He drags his zipper down and he can sense Castiel tensing up, but the man doesn’t object and so Dean cranes his neck forward and, just like this morning, takes Castiel’s soft cock into his mouth. He’s a lot more relaxed now, so he just stays very still without effort.

‘I understand, mother, but you know we have the utmost security on them. I am telling you, it must be someone working here.’  
 _Mother??_ Naomi’s Castiel's mother? Naomi, the same Naomi who hired him to suck _her son’s_ cock? God, these rich people are frigging weird. Also thank god Dean didn’t talk shit about her to Castiel today at lunch, that would probably have been the final straw in the frigging haystack of mistakes he already put on the proverbial camel’s back today. Whatever. He's not good with metaphors.   
‘There isn’t a single person here whom I haven’t hired myself, Castiel. Are you suggesting I let them in?’   
‘I am not suggesting anything, mother’ Castiel says, and Dean can hear the exhaustion in his tone even though he doesn’t have a frigging clue on what they’re talking about ‘I am merely saying that most of those agreements weren’t even written down electronically at first, but expressly written down in this room on blank contracts. It _must_ be someone with access to the house.’  
‘Perhaps you are less careful thank you think’ she replies, voice icy. ‘I will put Uriel in charge of reviewing the situation once more’   
‘If you think it’s best’ Castiel replies, curtly.   
‘And how is your companion?’ Naomi asks ‘Is he satisfactory?’   
Dean doesn’t know much about how this works, but he think it’s a bit rude to talk about him like he’s not even in the room. Castiel must think so too though, because he replies ‘Dean is doing a wonderful job’ and Dean knows he’s lying so he must be just saying that for Naomi’s benefit.   
‘Very well. I was afraid he would be a bit… graceless. He is rather large after all. Nothing like Inias. But I’m glad he’s proving adequate’   
Dean can’t purse his lips, but he frowns with every other muscle he’s got free. What a bitch.

When she finally leaves the office, Castiel glances down at him ‘Thank you for doing this, Dean. I’m sorry, I said you could take it easy today and that you only answered to me, but she definitely would have made both of your lives hell if she thought I was not behaving like I should with you. You can rest now, if you prefer’   
Dean pops off just enough to answer Castiel. ‘I mean, it’s not like it’s hard work. Besides, it is what you pay me for. You don’t have to coddle me.’   
‘I understand. Still, I appreciate your professionalism’   
Dean nods in acknowledgement and takes him back into his mouth. He doesn’t want any shortcuts. He ain’t some fragile virginal omega. Still – he thinks – how frigging weird is it that a 34 year old is bossed around by his mother like that? Especially an alpha who smells as powerful as Castiel does. There must be more to this story, but then again, it really isn’t any of Dean’s business.

The next few hours pass in relative tranquillity. Castiel types steadily at his computer, answers phone calls, meets with a couple of assistants who don’t even blink at seeing Dean on his knees and generally does whatever it is he does. He occasionally huffs in frustration, a spike in his scent telling Dean he’s getting stressed and Dean learns quickly that in those occasions he just needs to swallow around him a couple of times, or shift his head, and the man immediately relaxes. If he weren’t an alpha as well, he’d laugh at the super stereotypical display of how alpha biology works. Give them something around their dick and every single worry disappears. Still, it also fills him with a sort of pride, knowing that he can actually do this job right and that he’s providing for his alp-, for _the_ alpha he’s working for, not _his alpha,_ what the fuck ever? Anyway, that he’s providing and being useful in his role. It’s a relief, really, knowing that there is a point to all this.

The sky’s getting dark outside, so it must be close to 7pm, when something happens and breaks the peace. Dean can suddenly smell himself. It’s a tiny thread of alpha scent in the air, but it’s definitely present. Dean curses himself again and again because he didn’t think of reapplying his scent blockers at lunch. Rookie mistake. How many times can he fuck up in one day? He’s still probably got another hour to go or so at work and maybe, just maybe if he doesn’t move at all Castiel won’t smell it. Still, it’s a big risk. The first thing he tries to do is to calm his heartrate down. If he sweats it’ll be over a lot more quickly than that. So Dean tries to breathe deeply, relax his limbs, and make himself smaller between Castiel’s legs. Fifteen minutes later, he can smell himself a little bit more. _Fuck,_ he thinks and fidgets.

Dean sneaks a glance up and catches Castiel’s eyes. Those big baby blues are focused on him, pupils dark (probably because of the dimming light?), gaze heavy and Dean can hardly look away, feeling a spike of arousal in his dick. God, it’s almost unfair how attractive Castiel is. Dean blinks a couple of times and maintains eye contact, looking up from behind his lashes, hoping that he’s not giving anything away about his own predicament. The typing stops. He sees Castiel swallow and then look away quickly and were it any other situation, Dean would think that he smelled his alpha scent and got uncomfortable, but the dick chubbing up in his mouth tells a very different story. He smirks around it. There’s literally no way Castiel can hide his arousal from him and Dean feels smug at knowing he’s the one who caused it. Yeah, judging from what’s going on, there’s no way Castiel can smell he’s an alpha even if the blockers are wearing thin.

He glances up again and now there’s a delicious blush spreading down from Castiel’s cheeks to his neck and probably continuing on his shirt-covered chest. Dean wishes he could peel that off him to take a good look at this man. Castiel has resumed his typing, but the flushed skin remains stubbornly pink as his dick gets gradually harder in Dean’s mouth. _Showtime_. Dean’s given head plenty of times before, so he knows the drill and now it’s the first time he can show off his skills to his new employer. He doesn’t move an inch, but starts swallowing gently around Castiel’s cockhead, firmly lodged against his throat. It burns a bit, but he tries to relax as much as he can, knowing that an omega would have no problems deepthroating so he needs to do it effortlessly as well. Castiel’s dick responds to his ministrations with twitches which send him pushing against Dean’s palate. So Dean lets his tongue join the party, slowly dragging it on the underside of Castiel’s cock and then twirling it against the head as he pulls back enough. A loud huff of breath from above tells him that Castiel likes this move, so he does it again and again, using delicate swirls of his tongue before starting to suck in earnest. He tongues Castiel’s frenulum a couple of times, before he bobs his head down again and lodges him firmly in his throat.

Castiel’s hips start shifting, like he wants to fuck himself deeper into Dean but is trying to restrain himself so Dean does it for him and pushes his head down firmly over and over, each time opening his throat beautifully so that Castiel can fit his whole length inside of him. He sucks, _hard,_ and keeps up the pace. He doesn’t know if he’s allowed to use his hands, so he decides to curl them around Castiel’s calves instead in order to add more leverage. Using them as anchors, he starts going to town on the hard flesh between his lips, bobbing his head up and down rapidly, pushing his nose against the fabric surrounding Cas’s dick. Inhaling the strong scent of the aroused alpha is making him dizzy and horny as hell. His own dick is throbbing and he knows he’d better keep it concealed lest his size gives his alpha nature away. Were he an omega now, he has no doubts he’d be literally dripping with slick, with those little _uhnf_ s that Castiel lets out at every swirl of his tongue sounding hotter than sin.

Dean’s really enjoying this way more than he thought he would, holy hell. He does his best and it’s a mere couple of minutes later that Dean can feel the hardness of Castiel’s swelling knot starting to press against his lips and the roof of his mouth. _Oh shit._ Dean’s never, ever taken a knot in his mouth. All those times he’s done this before he always told the alphas that it was his only condition. Not that they had wanted to knot his mouth anyway, since that defies the purpose of a quick transaction. He tries not to panic, tries to remember how the omegas he slept with did this to him and then a few seconds later that wide hardness pushes firmly beyond his teeth and Dean can’t move. Can’t possibly do anything but swallow, unless he wants to literally rip Castiel’s knot apart with his teeth and _agh,_ just the thought makes him cringe so hard his own budding knot deflates a little. So he stays, mouth stretched full, cockhead pushed deep into his throat and after a few seconds of panic, he takes a deep breath through his nose and _oh thank god,_ he can do this. He hopes Castiel hasn’t noticed his faltering, so he starts swallowing convulsively around his length to distract him. A hand shoots out to grip his hair and he can’t stop the pleased moan that is ripped out of his throat by the gesture. Cas’s breathing is hard, but the man doesn’t say a word, just keeps a firm hand on Dean’s head and grinds his dick into his mouth by shifting his hips until he tenses up, clenches his thighs _hard_ squeezing Dean’s head between them and then a _stream_ of come starts flooding Dean’s mouth. He chokes, surprised, throat working convulsively to swallow the sudden income of liquid and it takes him a second to realise he needs to hold his breath so he does. He swallows and swallows, dragging air in through his nose between the long spurts. Come drips out from his stretched lips and he immediately slaps a hand on his chin so that he doesn’t accidentally soil Castiel’s trousers ( _that_ would be a real disaster), catching it and wiping his hand down on his own jeans. Castiel’s body is still tense, muscles locked and Dean can do nothing but just stay there, head trapped deep between Castiel’s legs, drinking down the insane amount of alpha come that the other man is pumping down his throat and waiting to catch a breath between spurts. He closes his eyes and obediently swallows.

It’s a good half an hour before Castiel’s knot deflates enough that Dean can finally move his head. His jaw hurts from being stretched wide for so long, but he knows he can’t let go of Castiel’s dick until he’s told to do so. At least it’s not hard anymore, which makes it easier to comfortably hold in his mouth. He looks up at Castiel and the man is smiling at him, so warm and affectionate that Dean thinks he’s done a good job. Castiel’s scent is also more mellow now, less spicy but deeper, even more attractive if that’s even possible. It's so strong in the room that it must be covering Dean's own. He gets another caress through his hair and then the typing restarts. Not a word was exchanged. Dean can get used to this, he thinks as he makes himself comfortable again and closes his eyes, letting his mind drift and his blood hum through his veins while he inhales Castiel’s scent as deeply as he can with each breath. He can _definitely_ get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So excited about you guys liking this fic. Thank you for all the kudos and comments. Keep 'em coming and you'll make me the happiest author! 
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter Xx


	3. Heather honey and lemon jam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter: sexual harassment (Dean is fondled inappropriately and verbally abused – obviously not by Castiel)

They settle into a routine. Dean arrives punctually each morning, says hello to Naomi and to the other staffers of the house before making his way to Castiel’s office. The man is always already there no matter how early Dean arrives. Castiel is always very kind to him, even if Dean is visibly grumpy in the morning and not at all chatty. They don’t speak much as Castiel works, for obvious reasons. Castiel is nice, but Dean gets the impression he’s not actually that used to being very social.

People flit in and out of the office, all of them mostly ignoring Dean and his initial embarrassment fades quite quickly. He thought he’d be on display all the time and while, technically, he _is,_ no one cares about him enough to take any notice. He’s just an anonymous cockwarmer on display, not _Dean_ on display, which suits him just fine. He’s even started to make friends with a couple of people who work there and who similarly like to spend time in the library during their lunch breaks, since Dean never leaves the house even during his two free hours and can be mostly found there. He slathers himself in more blockers, which he stores in the bathroom of the little service room he’s been given at the mansion, and never has another accident like that first day. Even Naomi is tolerable, she’s still a bitch but happy to ignore him. He can feel her sharp eyes on him on occasion, but he never gives her an opportunity to engage with him and so she just watches silently from afar.

There is one thorn in his side, however. Much worse than Naomi’s critical gaze. The only thing that really bothers him with this job. _Fucking Uriel._

Uriel’s Naomi personal assistant and by extension he works very often with Castiel. Like, _assistant_ assistant, not like Dean, who Castiel insists on calling his ‘assistant’ anyway just because he’s polite like that. Uriel is also an absolute nasty individual. The first time Dean met him was on his third day at Castiel’s, because the man had just returned from some assignment or others, Dean doesn’t really know and doesn’t care. Dean hates him and the feeling is entirely mutual. For one, the man is an alpha, but a pretty weak one if his pathetic nauseous scent is anything to go by. Dean's not one who only respects other alphas when they smell like power, but right now he'll take any excuse to hate Uriel. Because the man also has the most obnoxious attitude, of course. He is so unctuous and subservient to Castiel and Dean can’t understand how Castiel doesn’t see him for what he really is. He acts like the last fifty years of omega rights never existed, Dean has seen him bark orders at the omega staffers around the house and even against some betas. He’s got an inferiority complex a mile wide for being an alpha serving another alpha in an assistant position and of course, he has to take it out on everyone else. But as nasty as he is to the others, that doesn’t even come close to the way he treats Dean.

Thing is, Dean was actually pretty friendly to the man at first. He is trying to get in everyone’s good graces of course and he’s also usually pretty good at ingratiating himself with people. He worked for years as a bartender after all. So that’s why the first time Uriel kicks him, Dean thinks it was a genuine mistake. He was under the desk, after all, and maybe the man’s foot had slipped. It doesn’t justify the lack of apology, but still gives him the benefit of the doubt. Turns out, it wasn’t a mistake. Uriel goes out of his way to be a dick to him, he puts his feet in his way when he’s kneeling, kicks him ‘accidentally’, bumps into him in the corridor, sneers at him when he walks by. He can’t order him around when Dean is with Castiel, but any other time he catches him alone it’s a veiled stream of insults and taunts. ‘You done sucking cock for the day, little bitch? What is it, too much alpha for you to take?’ was the first one, pretty mild, but the rest is usually a variation of ‘I didn’t know you could walk on two feet, thought whores like you were only allowed to crawl’ and ‘What are you doing without a knot in you? If I see you like this again I might fix the problem myself, you worthless omega slut’. It’s so vicious and relentless that Dean truly doesn’t understand what the hell he has done to make the man hate him so much.  
But after the first few days, Dean stops wondering and starts being _furious._ He’s not even an omega and that kind of insults don’t really cut very deep, but he never thought it would be this bad for the other omegas who do this kind of jobs. He really feels for them and his indignation seems to only spur Uriel further. Also, the man is not as dumb as he looks. He is cautious when it’s just Dean and Castiel, but absolutely lets loose when others are in the room, knowing full well that Dean knows better than complain in those situations.

The absolute worst comes one day towards the end of his second week, when Castiel and Naomi are sitting side by side, behind Castiel’s desk and checking something on his screen. Dean is on all fours – he changes positions often, from kneeling to sitting to being on all fours in order to give his calves a chance to stretch. Uriel, the nasty bastard, is sitting behind him and Dean has been doing his best to ignore him, but it’s increasingly hard as the man starts giving him little pushes with the sole of his shoe. Dean tenses up, used to the treatment but no less irritated by it. This also makes it extra hard for him to keep still, because he can’t start bobbing up and down Cas’s dick like that and Uriel knows that very well. And then Uriel slips his shoe off and suddenly there’s a toe pressing into his backside, dangerously close to his hole and making its way there determinedly.  
Dean jerks suddenly away and slams down on his heels, crowding closer to Castiel and of course the sudden movement doesn’t go unnoticed.  
  
‘Are you alright, Dean?’ Castiel asks, interrupting his previous conversation with a tone of concern. Dean nods but doesn’t lift his head. He is so furious that he knows his eyes are probably glowing alpha red, so he doesn’t want to give himself away. He wishes he could pummel that son of a bitch to the ground for touching him like that, but doesn’t want to get in trouble. He knows full well what the hierarchy is here.  
So he keeps his head lowered, as all the people in the room stare at him in silence. One in concern, one in disapproval, the other one with smug arrogance. He wishes Castiel would start speaking again, even if just to distract Naomi (he’s sure he’ll get an earful later for his behaviour). Castiel starts again after a brief pause ‘… so in this case we get a quarter less initially, but the long-term revenue should…’ and, as inevitable as death and taxes, the foot is on him again. This time it rubs up and down his back, unable to reach his ass, but it makes his skin crawl anyway. He takes a deep breath through his nose, tries to calm his pulse and waits for this fucking meeting to be over while distracting himself by thinking about all the possible ways he can make Uriel hurt.

When it’s finally over and they’re alone, Castiel gently pries him off.  
‘Dean? What happened before? Are you ok?’ his tone is kind and telling Castiel the truth is probably what Dean should do, but Dean is not naïve and knows that even if Castiel’s the heart and brain of the business, Naomi is the one who pulls the string in the house, both regarding staff and Castiel’s private life. He also has no doubts that she’d always pick Uriel over him, seeing how cozy the two of them appear to be.  
‘Yeah sure. Sorry ‘bout that’ he mutters. He’s never been that good at lying.  
‘Dean’ Castiel tries again ‘You can trust me, I hope you know that. Has something happened?’ He must know. He _must,_ otherwise he wouldn’t be so suspicious.  
Dean shoots him one of his Dean WinchesterTM dazzling smiles. ‘Don’t worry, Cas. I’m just peachy’  
‘Cas?’ Castiel asks, smile peeking on his lips ‘I like it’ he decides. And there’s that. Dean winks at him and goes back to work. Crisis averted.

When his first (substantial) paycheck arrives in his bank account, a couple of weeks later, Dean is so fucking relieved that he takes Sam out and a bunch of his friends to celebrate and they go all out at the Roadhouse, refusing Ellen’s offer for free drinks. Uriel aside, this is the easiest money Dean’s ever made. He can’t really regret taking the job when he gets to smell someone delicious all day and he literally does nothing except kneel or sit on his ass.  
Cas gets hard maybe two or three times a day, but never pushes Dean to do anything with it, letting him set his own pace. Dean always sucks him off enthusiastically but after that first day Dean he can count on a single hand the number of times Castiel chose to knot his mouth. Generally, he just pulls himself off enough that Dean can still get a mouthful of come, but not get stuck with his jaw uncomfortably open for half an hour. Dean in those cases always decides to tell the rules to fuck off and, since he’s an alpha himself and knows what feels good, he always uses his hand to squeeze Castiel’s knot _just right._ Judging from the spike in scent he gets every time and the occasional deep groan, it’s the right choice.  
  
Dean is starting to get so attuned to Castiel’s scent by now that he can tell when he’s stressed and how to prevent him from getting more worked up, he can tell how to relax him, he can tell when he feels more aggressive than usual and wants Dean to suck him off hard and fast, he can tell when he needs a more languid blowjob. In short, it’s easy money and a hell of a job. If a month later he hears through the grapevine (aka Meg, one of Castiel’s assistants and a bitchy one that he doesn’t want to like but actually does) that Castiel’s closed more deals in the month he’s been with him than in the previous three combined, well, he’s not one to brag.

As the weeks progress it does get boring, though, so Dean’s started to tune into Castiel’s work conversations. Dean knows he’s dumb and he obviously doesn’t understand contracts and stuff. He’s not like Castiel who lives and breathes the stuff, but he thinks he’s got enough street smarts to know when something shady is going on. He’s learning way more about Castiel’s business than anyone will ever give him credit for, since he’s got nothing else to do but listen during the day. And he knows by now that they’ve been having troubles for a long time. Apparently someone is stealing information before the contracts are finalised, selling them to competitors so that they can make a better offer and steal deals under their noses. Castiel and Naomi speak in hushed tones, nervousness skyrocketing as their competitors keep getting the upper hand again and again. Apparently, it started long before Dean got here and he has a vague memory of listening to a conversation on the topic the day he started, even though he obviously had no clue what it meant at the time. It took him a while to put two and two together, but people tend to forget that he exists and that he’s a fully functional human being, so Dean’s become privy to a rather large number of private and confidential information. He knows that they’ve tried everything, even resorting to write down things by hand on blank contracts so that nothing can be stolen electronically before they make their official offer. And yet, they can’t find the leak and Dean knows Castiel is getting increasingly stressed, his mother breathing down his neck like it’s his own responsibility to find out what’s going on. So Dean keeps his eyes peeled. He doesn’t tell Castiel what he’s doing, but one evening he sticks a mirror to the other side of Castiel’s desk, hidden from view so that he can check what happens behind his back, and then there’s nothing left to do but wait, hoping that one day it’ll prove useful.

Dean doesn’t just learn about their corporate trouble though. He also learns more and more about Castiel. The man, who is always so kind and gentle with Dean, can be a grumpy bastard on the phone, especially if he’s displeased with someone’s work. Dean and Cas still barely speak beyond exchanging pleasantries in the morning but Dean’s learning a lot about the man he is and not just about his alpha side. He knows he respects loyalty but has very high standards that people rarely meet. He is a workaholic but doesn’t exploit his staff, always asking the opinion of his two assistants Hannah and Meg. He’s stubborn, but almost always right with his intuitions. He has terrible music taste. He likes heather honey and lemon jam. He’s always punctual. He never goes against a single thing Naomi says. Dean’s heard him grumble into the phone more than one time so that he now vaguely knows the names of his best and worst clients. He knows which ones of his siblings he talks to willingly (Anna and Gabriel) and which ones he only talks to on the phone only when he really has to (Lucifer, Michael). So the job is alright and Dean is kind of learning about business at the same time. If they never have lunch together again after that first day, he doesn’t really have any right to complain.

At one point, of course, the professional bliss Dean and Cas have been having is interrupted by probably the scariest words Dean has ever heard.  
‘Dean, tomorrow Castiel will have to go to New York on a business trip. It’s been arranged at the last minute so I couldn’t give you any advance warning, but you will accompany him, here’s your plane ticket. Do not lose it. You will get paid your usual fee for up to your normal work hours, in case of overtime you will get compensated. Questions?’  
And Dean’s already green enough in the face just hearing the words _plane ticket_ that he doesn’t dare to open his mouth for a few seconds.  
‘Uhhh, I… is this really necessary?’  
Naomi glares at him ‘What kind of question is that? Of course it’s necessary. This is precisely why we hired you. Any other less idiotic question?’  
He gulps, hard. ‘No ma’am’. He’s so screwed.

‘If you’re a gardener, why the hell do you need to go on a work trip to _New York_ with him?’ Sam asks at dinner that night, incredulous. Fuck, Dean should have thought of a better excuse.  
‘Oh come on Sammy, you know how it is. I’m not just a gardener, I’m a sort of jack-of-all-trades for him. I’ll be his driver in New York and I’ll be carrying his bags, getting his lunch, doing that sorta stuff.’  
Sam doesn’t seem convinced. ‘Doesn’t he have assistants for that?’ he asks, petulantly.  
‘Yeah, yeah but they’re for the business stuff. I’m just doing grunt work. Look, I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t know this would happen, it was sprung on me this morning. I wouldn’t leave you alone if I could say no. well, I tried to say no actually but that bitch…’  
‘Gendered slurs, Dean’ Sam complains, pursing his lips and fixing Dean with that judgemental stare of his.  
‘Yeah, yeah. Anyway. I tried saying no but they basically made it clear that I’d be fired if I refused. Anyway, I called Ellen and she said you can go stay at hers while I'm away, if you want'  
Sam just rolls his eyes 'I'll be _fine,_ Dean'  
'Maybe so, but I don't want to leave you alone'  
Sam sighs ‘I don’t care about being alone, Dean. Jesus, I’m sixteen. At my age you were already working and taking me to school. I just know how much you hate flying and they kind of seem like they’re dicks to you. Are you sure they’re not taking advantage?’  
Dean snorts, thinking of the fat paycheck he gets each month. ‘Yeah no. I’ve got a good gig here, Sammy. It’s worth it. Even if I have to get on the metal tube of death for it.’ Well, he’s not so sure about that part.  
  


He’s even less sure about that part when he’s boarding the plane, he’s already feeling like he’s suffocating because of the rarefied air even if they’re still on the ground. He clenches his ticket in his sweaty palm as he and Castiel make their way to their seats. His assistants are in economy, but the two of them go all the way to another sector in a different area of the plane until they reach business class. Dean hadn't known before, but flying in business class apparently means that each seat is a sort of independent pod, cushy and comfortable-looking, and they all have a space next to them reserved for omega cockwarmers. It’s a much smaller gig, shaped as a half-moon with twists and moves so that the omega can comfortably still sit between the alpha’s leg or just be at their side depending on the alpha’s desires. It’s also quite cramped, Dean notices, as he squishes himself in it. He feels ridiculous and miserable, for the first time wishing he looked a bit more like… well, a twink. A quick look around him confirms that most of the other omegas are indeed much more lithe, none of them seem bothered by their arrangement. Dean stares a bit, since he’s never been in a situation where he can observe so many of his ‘colleagues’ and he’s intrigued to see if they behave differently from him. But he doesn’t get a chance to look at them much since all of the alphas raise their pod partition screens as soon as they’re settled and hide themselves and their omegas from view.

Castiel is glued to his phone this morning, taking calls and barking orders in order to arrange some last-minute deals or meetings, so Dean is left to his own devices. There is an announcement saying that everyone needs to be in take-off position and Dean swallows hard as he tighten his seatbelt and grips the edges of his seat. Dean’s so shaky and panicky when the plane starts lifting off that his mouth is trembling, eyes squeezed shut and face ashen. Castiel doesn’t notice, engrossed as he is with his paperwork and at one point, far too soon, there’s another announcement saying that now it’s permitted the use of electronic devices and that the omega seats can be moved in comfort position. It’s obvious what that means.  
  
Dean can feel his blood pounding in his ears as he slowly pries his fingers off the seat edge. He needs to be good for Castiel, he needs to be the perfect assistant, he needs to get money home to Sammy, he can’t fuck this up, he can’t. He twists his seat until he’s between Castiel’s legs and the man spreads them without even looking at him. He swallows, hard, trying to keep his nausea down, as he opens his fly with shaking fingers. When he closes his mouth around Cas’s dick, he realises that his hope that this would distract him enough was futile. The fact that he can’t see anything when his face is pushed into Castiel’s crotch like that is making him even more anxious and he’s now shaking like a leaf. At that point Castiel finally notices that something is off and he puts his phone away immediately, his hands coming up around Dean’s cheeks. ‘Dean, what’s wrong? Are you alright, Dean, what’s happening?’ his voice is agitated, blue eyes scanning Dean’s to figure out what is going on. Dean pops off and swallows a lump in his throat, sniffling embarrassedly. ‘I’m really sorry I just… really hate flying. I'll be alright, just...’  
‘Oh, Dean, you could have told me! I had no idea, I wouldn’t have asked for you to come with me if I had known!’ He still holds Dean’s face in his hands, so he can’t move away, but he lowers his eyes. He feels even worse now for making Castiel feel guilty.  
‘No, no, this is my job. I just… I’ve only ever flown once before and I just don’t…I can’t see when I’m down there and…’  
Castiel tucks himself in and waves down a flight assistant immediately ‘Could we please have some green tea and a blanket?’  
  
Castiel insists in manoeuvring Dean into the half moon pod next to him while in resting position and then just stares at him with pursed lips.  
‘Well, this won’t do.’ He comments. Dean’s already embarrassed because he feels (and probably looks like) an adult stuck in a baby stroller when he lies down in it. He is even more embarrassed that his alpha must see this pitiful spectacle.  
‘Excuse me’ Cas calls out at another passing flight assistant ‘Is this seat next to us free?’ he gestures at one of the empty first class alpha seats just beside Castiel’s. ‘Yes, sir.’  
‘Very well, could you please take this and upgrade my companion to this seat please?’ he asks, handing his credit card to the woman.  
‘Cas, no!’ Dean protests, still nauseous enough that he can’t put up a proper fight ‘No please, it’s not necessary.’  
‘Shush, Dean. Let me take care of you’ Cas says and Dean can sense his alpha voice in the stern tone. It won’t work on him biologically, obviously, since he’s not an omega, but it’s enough to make him want to stop fighting Castiel.  
The flight assistant is efficient and polite as the takes the proffered card and invites Dean to take that seat. He tries to protest again. ‘Cas, I won’t be able to do my job if I’m all the way over there’ but Castiel just rolls his eyes and answers ‘I am pretty sure I can survive a few hours without your services, as truly enjoyable as they are, I’d rather make sure you’re ok.’  
It’s the first time that Castiel has commented on the quality of his warming and Dean blushes despite himself. And isn’t _that_ a weird reaction? Dean Winchester of all people never thought he’d go red at someone implying that he can suck a mean cock. It’s probably just because this plane has been scrambling his brain as well as his stomach.  
  
‘I truly apologise for not noticing before, Dean’ Cas says, once Dean is comfortably wrapped up in his (large) pod seat. Fuck, that’s comfortable. They leave the partition between them down, though, so Cas can keep an eye on him. ‘’s alright, Cas. Not your fault. You weren’t looking and since you can’t smell me there’s no way you could have known.’  
This is the first time one of them hints at Dean’s constant and heavy-handed use of scent-blockers. Castiel raises his eyebrows and nods, but doesn’t pry and Dean’s grateful.  
The flight, of course, is very bumpy and about an hour in Dean’s so grey in the face that Castiel is starting to get visibly worried. Dean refuses to touch any liquid that the other man orders for him.  
‘Dean, tell me about your holidays then. If you’ve never flown before, how did you get around?’  
Dean can appreciate the attempt for what it is and draws a deep sigh, then launches himself into an explanation of his childhood camping trips in Baby and ten minutes later he’s still describing how awesome his car is when he realises that he’s stopped wanting to throw up. He’s still scared shitless, but he’s no longer one second away from barfing. Might also have something to do with the fact that Castiel has been pumping out a soothing and calming scent non-stop since they took off. Dean’s head is turned towards him, so he can sniff him deeply, and he’s not even a tiny bit ashamed.   
‘Uh’ he looks at Castiel ‘you ploy to distract me seems to have worked’  
Castiel gives him one of those rare smiles which make his eyes crinkle at the corners and Dean just thinks about how unfairly hot he is.

After that, everything goes slightly better. They spend the whole flight chatting and if Dean’s feeling a bit guilty remembering Naomi’s warning not to get too friendly with Castiel, it’s easy to ignore. They’re on a plane and there’s things even Naomi won’t know if they don’t tell her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy guys I hope you liked this! It's a bit of a filler, I know, but so many things from this chapter will become important in the next ones. Thanks again for your amazing feedback, it's the best reward!


	4. New York

Doing business with Castiel in New York is not that different from being at home. He accompanies Castiel in big boardrooms and sits or kneels at his feet, next to other cockwarmers, on large grey pillows. He finally gets a chance to observe their M.O. and notices that it’s not that different from his anyway. He’s pleasantly surprised, however, when he sees that there are at least two omega women among the members of the business board. But then he thinks about how uncomfortable it must be for them to be surrounded by alphas with the only other omegas being at their feet with their mouths full of dick. Yuck. He’s glad he’s not really part of this world. (He’s not, he’s definitely not. This is just a temporary gig)  
Dean’s never been in the city, but he has so little free time that he doesn’t manage to do much sightseeing anyway, just catching a couple of hours here and there when he can. He’s not a big city person anyway, and the crowds and cramped spaces of New York are unpleasant. One of the positives is that he has his own plush hotel room and he feels rather spoiled, especially with the promise from Castiel of another business class ticket for the way back.

Cas keeps to himself the first two evenings, but on the third one Dean gets a knock on his door at 6pm, and it’s Meg telling him that Cas will require his services for the night.  
‘It’s drinks with the big guns, so you gotta look sharp, Deano. Have you got your evening suit?’  
‘Yeah, think so. Is that the grey one?’  
‘No’ Meg says, impatiently ‘It’s the dark green one. Think you can manage to put your pants on all by yourself or do you need me to help?’ this time it’s suggestive. Dean tells the bitchy omega to fuck off and goes looking for his stuffy clothes. To be fair, he looks damn good in the suit. He’s going to have to give some credit to the guy who Naomi hired to fix him someone else’s suit, considering he only had half a day to do it. He stares at his own reflection in the mirror while he combs his hair and straightens his striped tie.

He walks out in the corridor and heads to Cas’s room on the floor above. He smooths his jacket lapels down one last time and then he knocks.  
The door of the suite opens revealing a large, lavish living room and four people he’s never seen already inside. He balks when he notices that Cas is not alone and for a second he’s terrified that he’s late and he’s embarrassed Castiel.  
‘And who might this be?’ asks a red headed woman with a thick Scottish accent in a tight powder pink silk dress. Her tone is very suggestive as she strips him with her eyes, smirk on her red lips and eyebrows arched up, attractively. She sips from her martini glass while her eyes rake up and down his body, hungry and seductive. All the attention is on him. Normally he’d lap this up, play the room, flirt his way around, but now he’s not sure this is a good sign. 

‘Ah, Dean’ Castiel says then, interrupting the tense silence. Dean looks up to find him, relieved to hear his voice. Cas is resting against a far window and when he looks over, Dean watches him lick his lips almost distractedly and give Dean a once-over, clearly approving of the suit. He balks, surprised, but finds that he _really_ doesn’t mind when it’s Castiel doing that. He approaches from the window with a glass of amber liquid in hand. He puts a palm on his shoulder and faces his guests, introducing him ‘This is Dean, he’s my private assistant’ he has the hint of a smile on his lips, which gets wider as Dean looks at him questioningly, hoping to get some idea about what he needs to do. Is Castiel expecting him to kneel in front of him here? While he’s standing? He really doesn’t know protocol for this sort of ill-defined event. It's clear though that Cas is not about to stop his guests from admiring how attractive Dean is. Maybe it's all part of the act?  
  
‘Way to go, Cassie. You really found yourself a _delicious_ one this time. My god, does he have a brother?’ Says another man in the room. Dean is starting to feel a bit like a piece of meat.  
Castiel looks at him, eyes full of mirth and exasperation in equal amounts.  
‘Dean, that is my brother Gabriel, you can always trust him to be classy and well-spoken. Pay him no mind, he’s mostly inoffensive. This here is the lovely Rowena, then meet Arthur and Bartholomew. We went to university together and occasionally still meet when I am lucky enough to escape to New York. They were kind enough to come have a drink with me tonight before the dinner starts.’  
Dean says hello, shakes some hands, moving with the flow of the room.  
‘Here, have a drink. We’re among friends for now so no need for formalities. Would you prefer a martini or a whisky? We also have cognac, but I’m more of a scotch or bourbon man myself’ Dean approaches the bar where Castiel is waiting to pour him a drink and he has never heard Castiel say so many words not about business since their first lunch together. He knows now what part he’s required to play, Castiel letting him know without saying it explicitly, and answers smoothly ‘What a coincidence, I’m very much of a scotch man as well. Neat, please, if possible’. He exchanges a glance with Cas and the other man offers him a private smile and a look that seems almost apologetic, before handing him a glass.  
The conversation among the others resumes smoothly as he sips, even though Rowena is still undressing him with her eyes. He even manages to make a few interventions, when spoken to, but for the rest he plays his role of eye candy and hovers around Castiel. From Castiel’s scent, Dean can tell that he’s pleased. Castiel is not sure how Dean feels, though, judging from the inquisitive glances he sends his way every now and then, to which Dean just responds with tiny nods of his head and small smiles. For the first time he wishes Castiel could scent him back and just know that Dean's doing ok, he wishes that they could get stuck in a feedback loop of mutual satisfaction.

If Dean thought he got away with it easily during drinks, things change around 8pm when the small party breaks up as Castiel heads downstairs for his last business dinner of the trip. Dinner is a much more formal affair, with many other people in suits and a stricter protocol. As always, Dean finds himself on his knees under the table, but this time Castiel whispers to him ‘Dean, I’m sorry you have to be down there, but it’s all for form. If we were with my friends only you’d be up here with us. You don’t have to do anything, please just try to enjoy your night even though it’ll be quite boring I am sure’  
He slips him glasses of whisky occasionally and a plate of really amazing starters, even if Dean thinks it’s quite humiliating to be given scraps like he’s a dog, but he knows Castiel is probably trying his best. He’s actually surprised at the apology, isn’t this what he’s for?  
  
As the hours wear on, he finds himself more and more thankful that he got this job with a man like Castiel. He looks around under the table, since he’s got nothing else to do, and he sees many other omegas in a predicament much worse than his. The tablecloth is so long that it basically almost touches the floor, so whatever happens underneath the stable stays pretty much invisible from the rest of the diners out there. And this is _very_ different from the display in the boardroom of the last couple of days. Some of the omegas are wearing next to nothing and it can’t be comfortable since the room isn’t particularly warm. Others are being roughly manhandled and the more the night goes on, the more alcohol is imbibed, the rougher some of the alphas get. Some of them are shoving themselves down these poor omegas’ throats, others have already made a mess of their faces, others still have their dick in their omegas, yes, but not in their mouths. A few are just sitting there, like Dean, with a bored expression on their faces, equally sipping from various glasses or eating something. A couple are browsing their phones. All in all, Dean considers himself one of the lucky ones.

It’s a long time before Castiel decides to make a move and Dean is extremely grateful. His alpha is actually one of the first to leave. He bids everyone goodnight citing a long trip home tomorrow as an excuse.  
‘It has been exceptional to see all of you in these past couple of days. It’s been a real pleasure on the business side, but especially on the personal side. I wish you all a very good night and I hope to see you very soon.’ Smooth fucker, Dean thinks, as he walks behind him with as much grace he can muster for a man who's been cramped under a table the whole night. Naomi’s words about him being graceless still ring in his hears, but she’s never seen him in a suit like this. They ride the elevator up together and Castiel turns to him as soon as the door close and visibly deflates, relaxing.  
‘Thank god that’s over’ he mutters, running a hand through his hair and making it all stick up like he just rolled out of bed. It’s a good look.  
Dean chuckles ‘Not a fan of business dinners?’  
Cas grimaces ‘I am when it’s not with this bunch of haughty idiots. Not only they're mostly incompetent at their jobs, but the things they say and do when they get drunk… be glad you don’t have to bear witness to that.’  
‘Really, Cas?’ Dean asks, with a bitter smile and a sidelong glance ‘Somehow I don’t think you’re the one who sees their worst side’  
Castiel looks at him, puzzled for a second, before the meaning of Dean's words sinks in and his expression darkens.  
‘Of course, how stupid and thoughtless of me. I apologise for not thinking before I spoke, Dean. I should apologise for a lot more, actually, for putting you in this situation tonight and for the drinks before, too. I know it wasn’t your ideal setting. It’s no one’s ideal setting. This industry disgusts me.’ He growls and Dean suddenly realises that Cas is drunk. Or at least tipsy, his cheeks are flushed and he’s a lot more growly and outspoken than he normally would be. Hell, he even used the word _idiot_! Dean licks his lips, surreptitiously drawing closer to the other man to inhale his scent. He’s worked up and it swirls dark and spicy in the air, a promise of danger which shouldn’t make Dean’s neck hair rise up but it does.  
He wants to ask why Castiel has hired a cockwarmer if he doesn’t like the concept, why he works in this environment if he hates it, but then decides he’d much rather keep his job and not ask stupid questions.  
  
‘It’s alright, although a bit of warning about the whole shindig would have been nice’ he says, realising he should probably answer _something_ to Cas’s outburst.  
‘What do you mean warning?’ Castiel frowns ‘Didn’t Meg brief you on tonight’s program?’  
‘Uhm no, she just told me what to wear but I had no clue what it’d be like. Never done that in public before, you know?’  
‘Oh, Dean!’ Castiel exclaims, alcohol making him more expansive than necessary ‘I’m sorry you were thrown in the deep end like that. It was never my intention. I’ll have words with Meg, she usually isn’t so distracted. But you handled it beautifully. You always handle everything beautifully’ he adds, tone dropping low as he looks away.  
Dean swallows. ' _I would fucking love handling you beautifully' _he thinks, wishing he could rip that shirt right off Castiel to see what the alpha can do when he’s really riled up.

The elevator pings when it gets to Dean’s floor and he makes a move to leave.  
‘Dean, wait’ Castiel says, blocking his exit by holding the elevator door with an arm.  
‘Yes?’ Dean asks. He can’t mistake Castiel’s rich scent, growing more and more attractive by the second. He knows it... _intimately,_ after all. He can’t mistake his blown pupils and the flush on his cheeks, making those sharp cheekbones look even more pronounced and attractive than usual. The two men stare at one another unblinkingly for a few seconds, tension rising as they gravitate imperceptibly towards each other. Dean’s mind is buzzing, he’s holding his breath, waiting to see what will happen. He knows he shouldn’t sleep with Castiel, he _can’t_ sleep with Castiel without giving his secret away but God he _wants_ to. And if the man asks…  
Castiel tilts his head forward, moving slightly closer to Dean’s neck. He inhales once, twice, trying to scent him. Dean gets a lungful of the other man’s scent instead, making his dick harden at warpspeed. A frustrated tiny snarl escapes Castiel’s mouth when he realises he can’t smell Dean and the sound goes straight to Dean's dick, but also seems to rouse Castiel from his transfixed state. He jumps back and just like that the spell is broken. Cas looks up at Dean with wide eyes as he draws back his arm and moves to the back of elevator.  
‘Have a good night, Dean’ he says, voice rough and he hits the button to close the doors. Dean stands in front of the closed elevator for a few seconds before his brain goes back online and he drags himself away towards his own room. God, Castiel’s going to kill him one of these days. Either that, or he’s going to fuck him. Dean knows which one to hope for.

The morning after Castiel is as impeccably dressed as usual, not a hint of hangover in his scent, not a crease in his suit. The ride to the airport is silent, but not uncomfortably so, especially after Castiel stops to buy Dean and his two assistants coffee and not one but two bagels each. ‘Best. Boss. Ever’ coos Hannah and Dean can’t help but agree. Meg just snorts in her coffee and stays silent, but the look she gives Dean is calculating.  
The flight home is relatively turbulence-free, Dean’s in first class and he gets two free days for his trouble, so it’s a win win. Dean doesn’t know if Castiel being so nice means he’s feeling guilty, but he’ll take the niceness no matter where it’s coming from.

*

‘Rise and shine, Sammey!’ he yells at his sleeping little brother on the Saturday morning. ‘You’ve got _two_ full days with your big bro! Aren’t you thrilled’  
‘Nnnnngh’ Sam complains, throwing a pillow in the direction of Dean’s face. ‘Shut up!’  
‘No can do. You’re stuck with me today. Come on, get up, I made pancakes.’  
They hang out all weekend as promised and even if Sam’s still unpresented, Dean can smell his happiness seeping through his kid scent. His own is in full force at the thought of spending so much time with Sam. They haven’t spoken properly in so long that he feels guilty, their only time together being two hours in the evening before they go to bed. Sam tries to reassure him that he knows he’s doing this for him, but they are both aware of how much they’ve missed each other. On the Sunday night they decide to go hang out at the Roadhouse as usual, because it’s tradition and because, well, it’s the only place where they’ll let Sam in even though Ellen always watches him like a hawk to check that he’s not drinking. Dean is thrumming with unspent energy. Spending so much time with Castiel, being surrounded by aroused scents, sucking dick on the regular and _never_ getting anyhing in return is making him go a little stir crazy. Especially when all he can think about when he strips his cock in his own bed at night is a pair of crazy blue eyes and an intoxicating scent. He still doesn’t know what’s up with that, since he’s never in his life found the scent of another male alpha arousing, but he decides this is not the time for some soul-searching.  
‘This is the time to get laid!’ he yells, slapping Sam on the back heartily as he watches the teenager shoot him a sour look.  
‘Really, Dean?’  
‘Yep, so go get lost, hang out with Jo or something before all the hot omega chicks in here think I’m busy babysitting you’  
Sam shoots him a mighty bitch face but disappears in the back, definitely more scared by the prospect of witnessing his brother’s flirting attempts than by Dean’s threats.

A couple of hours later Dean’s got a pretty little thing wrapped around him. She’s a bit overeager for his tastes, with all that scent marking and rubbing his neck, but she’s hot and he’s horny and she’s one of the few who’s not sloppy drunk, but is actually fairly sober, so Dean will take what he can get.  
They head back to her place and _finally_ Dean can have someone hanging from _his_ knot for once. He fucks her hard and she mewls her pleasure in his neck when his knot swells and locks them together. And if Dean has to pretend that this isn’t one of the most unsatisfying orgasms of his life, nobody needs to know, not even himself.

When Dean arrives at work the next morning, he’s fifteen minutes late. He fell asleep at Kathy’s (Kitty’s?) and he only remembered in the morning that he needed scent blockers, so he had to rush home to pick them up. He showers thoroughly to make sure her omega scent is gone from his skin because the girl couldn’t _stop_ scent marking him last night. He spends so long on the task, before slathering the blockers on, that he ends up late. Thankfully no one’s at the door when he walks in and he heads straight to Castiel's office.  
When he opens the door, flustered from rushing, Cas looks up and shoots him a wide grin and a look of relief.  
‘Dean. I thought something had happened’  
‘I’m really sorry, forgot something at home and had to run back. It won’t happen again.’  
‘It’s quite alright Dean’ Cas smiles and he sounds like he means it. 'I hope you had a good weekend off'  
Dean rushes over to him and drops to his knees more quickly than usual, ready to get to business. He’s merely managed to open Castiel’s trousers, however, when he sees the alpha tense visibly.  
He looks up and is met with what can only be described as a constipated look ‘Is everything alright?’  
Castiel sniffs the air surreptitiously and Dean just _knows_ that he can smell Kitty. Fuck.  
Castiel opens his mouth to say something, but then seems to change his mind and closes it, shaking his head. ‘Perfectly fine’ he says, curtly, and then he goes back to work.  
If Dean felt like they had gotten closer over their time in New York, he was sorely mistaken. Castiel hardly talks to him that day and the next few days. Even their usual morning and evening chats are cut short, now reduced to a few perfunctory ‘good morning’s and ‘see you tomorrow’s. Dean sulks. Castiel sulks. No one is really sure why.

They stop tiptoeing around each other about five days later, oddly enough thanks to Uriel. The man has somehow been able to pick up on the fact that something’s wrong between the two and of course this fills him with glee. This means he’s started picking on Dean at any chance he gets, even though he had left him alone for the better part of the last few months. ‘What’s wrong, omega? Novak finally decided you’re worthless even as a whore?’ Dean just rolls his eyes and doesn’t even bother replying. But it doesn’t end there. The next day, as Dean is making himself a sandwich in the kitchen for lunch, he barely has time to realise that someone’s behind him when he feel a hand grab his ass so hard that Dean jumps one meter in the air. If the man thought he’d yelp or cower, he was sorely mistaken, as Dean turned around growling, teeth bared, arm shooting out and fingers gripping the throat of his aggressor. _Whoops. Don’t fuck with an alpha, I guess_. Dean thinks, when he realises who it is that he’d holding at arm’s length. The slimy fucker’s face is turning to an unpleasant shade, his air supply cut off by Dean’s steady grip.  
‘Dean!’ comes a shocked tone from the doorway and Dean stops baring his teeth, turning to see Castiel standing at the entrance, mouth open.  
‘What are you doing?’ Castiel’s appalled voice cuts through the air.  
Dean turns to Uriel, not willing to back down and growls at him again once, snapping his teeth in warning, before letting go with a push that makes him stumble backwards. He fixes him with a glare, daring him to say anything. Uriel massages his throat while returning the stare, obviously unsure on how to proceed. It’s a big gamble to assume that Castiel will trust him, rather than Dean, and for all his posturing it’s not one he’s apparently willing to take. He stays silent.  
‘Nothing he doesn’t deserve’ growls Dean, low.  
Castiel looks between the two of them, stern alpha dominance radiating from him in waves, scent turned dense and dark. ‘I don’t know what’s happening here, but it better not happen again. If I see the two of you lay a hand on each other again, there will be serious consequences’ he states. ‘Dean, follow me’ he orders then and walks out.  
Dean shoots a cocky wink to Uriel, snarling once more just to make his point clear, and follows Castiel.  
‘Run after your master, whore’ spits out Uriel, but it has no power and he knows it.

‘What the hell was that, Dean?’ Castiel asks, turning around and slamming the door of his office close as soon as Dean walks in.  
‘The fucker needed to be taught a lesson on how to keep his hands to himself’ Dean replies, easy, deciding that he’ll tell the truth but not offer any details. He definitely won’t be making excuses for his behaviour, though.  
Castiel’s expression darkens even more ‘Has he been harassing you? Has this happened before?’ Dean shrugs.  
‘Dean! I expect an answer when I’m talking to you.’  
Dean huffs, unbothered by the alpha voice ‘Look, Cas. He ain’t the first and he won’t be the last. He just crossed the line one too many times and I reminded him of it. Nothing else to see here’  
‘One too- so this _has_ happened before! Why have you not said anything?’  
‘And then what? Make you go toe-to-toe with Naomi about which one of us should get fired? No thanks.’  
Castiel purses his lips ‘I will not compromise over the safety of my staff. Never.’  
Dean tries to look placating, since he can’t really pump out the right pheromones with his scent ‘I feel safe when I’m with you, Cas. Men like Uriel? Nothing I can’t handle. But I promise that if he crosses the line again I will tell you’ he concedes.  
Castiel still looks murderous, but his lips twist, pleased, when Dean says he feels safe with him. And just like that, they’re back to be civil to each other and even downright friendly. Still, Dean makes no mistake in assuming that Cas has forgotten about Uriel. This will come back to bite one of them in the ass, he’s sure.


	5. Comfy the Canned R

Life goes on, steady and slightly boring, which also means it's pretty good, in Dean's book.  
But of course the uneventfulness can't last. Two weeks after the unpleasant episode with Uriel, Naomi calls Dean into her office just as he is making his way to his car in order to go home.  
‘Dean, wait. I just received confirmation that you will be required to assist Castiel tomorrow night. We will pay you overtime, of course.’  
'Oh, ok, sure. What's the occasion?'  
'It's a dinner. Upscale place, but black tie will be sufficient.'  
‘Alright, do you know until what time I will be working?’  
She looks annoyed ‘Of course not, that depends how well the date goes. Just keep your evening schedule clear. Now go. Oh, make sure you bring the suit with you to work in the morning, you probably won't have time to go home to change’ and without waiting for a further response, Naomi turns on her heels and goes back into the house.  
_The date?  
  
_Apparently, Dean’s going to be third-wheeling Castiel on one of his dates. Great. Just fabulous. He drives angrily, radio turned off as he considers the indignity. His scent blockers wear off during his drive home and when he gets back his car is filled with the stink of angry alpha. He smells so bad that Sam wrinkles his nose as soon as he steps into the apartment, interrupting whatever the hell the kid was doing on his laptop. And he can’t even smell properly!  
‘Jesus, Dean, who pissed in your cereal?’  
Dean answers with a low growl and slams the door on his way to the bathroom, without answering. Fucking hell, he thinks, while waiting for the water to warm up, tomorrow’s going to be a big steaming pile of crap. Not only he’s got to work for like a billion hours, he’s also got to suck another alpha’s dick while he wines and dines a _better_ omega than him. He throws himself under the still-cold spray, scowling.  
Wait, what? This is ridiculous. He’s _not_ an omega, he’s just pretending to be one, so why is he getting so worked up about this? Well, no one likes third-wheeling, that must be why he is so riled up. He scrubs himself hard under the now-too-hot stream of water, until his skin turns pink. Confused and upset, Dean goes to bed without even eating dinner.

Castiel chooses to finish work early the next day and after he shuts off his computer he gives Dean’s shoulder a delicate squeeze, indicating that it’s time to go. Of course, he probably can't concentrate with the anticipation of the date growing nearer. Dean tries not to scowl as he carefully tucks Castiel back into his trousers and stands up, grabbing the suit that’s hanging from the back of Castiel’s door.  
‘I need to go home and have a shower before heading out. You could come with me and you’re welcome to change there, have a drink while you wait and then we can drive together to the restaurant’  
‘Sure thing, Cas’ Dean says, breezily. He’s not affected. He’s _not_ affected. The car ride to the house is silent and Dean can’t even find himself to be curious about the place Castiel lives in. It’s probably another swanky colonnaded house hidden somewhere. As they leave the more settled area of town and get closer to the woods, it turns out he couldn’t have been more wrong. Castiel’s house is a dream come true. It’s _Dean’s_ dream home, more like. The white mansion where Naomi lives and where they work all day is imposing and grand, sure, but also rather cold and impersonal and it just makes Dean uncomfortable even if he’s used to it by now. It could never feel like a _home._ This house though… it’s perfect. It’s made out of old-looking red bricks, large enough to look beautiful and grand, but not over-the-top. It's a pretty simple structure, no fancy colonnade or gold-painted gates. Ivy crawls up one side and covers part of the façade, a chimney is already letting out some smoke, indicating that a fire is crackling inside. A dark luscious thicket of trees grows at the back of it and gives it a fairytale sort of look. It’s still luxurious, but there’s a decidedly ‘homey’ feeling that Dean likes. The driveway is more reasonable than Naomi’s and there’s no immediate neighbours, just a couple of houses visible in the distance thanks to their glittering lights. Absolute heaven.

They make their way inside in silence and everything just screams _Castiel_ to Dean. There’s many books, scattered pretty much everywhere, and soft rugs partially cover the beautiful hardwood floors. The furniture is nice but well-used, various trenchcoats and wellies are waiting by the front door, with a bit of mud still on them indicating that they get used regularly. A beta maid welcomes them and shows Dean to the living room, where there in fact a beautiful fireplace which is already lit and is casting dancing shadows all over the walls. It’s a country home, pretty old-school, it’s warm and inviting and Dean finds himself appreciating Castiel even more. The man’s got taste.  
‘Please do make yourself comfortable Dean. If you wish to take a shower and change, there’s a guest bathroom and bedroom upstairs to the left. Nadia here can help if you need anything. Otherwise, help yourself to my drinks cabinet, I think you’ll find a couple of things you like’ Cas smiles and Dean nods, watching him disappear upstairs. Dean sinks into the couch and groans as it welcomes his body like a warm hug. He could stay here forever.

Forever lasts about an hour, until Castiel is fully ready to go and their driver has arrived. ‘I wish I could drive myself' Cas says as they climb into the car 'I so rarely get a chance to do so lately, but that means I wouldn’t be able to drink tonight and, well…’ he doesn’t finish the sentence and Dean doesn’t asks what he means. He’s still trying to control his bad mood about this whole thing. Even if he can’t smell him, Castiel must sense that something’s wrong because he starts apologising.  
‘I’m sorry about this, Dean. Trust me, if I could avoid it I would, but she’s an old family friend and I…’  
Dean interrupts him while straightening his tie ‘No need for apologies, Castiel. This is my job.’ He decided he’s gonna do what he has to at the best of his abilities, but he sure as hell won’t talk about it.  
‘Right. Yes. Your job.’ Castiel says and the rest of the journey passes in silence.

The restaurant is extremely upscale, so much that even if Dean knows he has a suit on and he looks alright, he still feels out of place. One of the upsides is that no one he knows would ever frequent a place like this, which means he’s not likely to run into anyone who could recognise him. A small discreet sign at the door mentions that all alphas need to have an “omega companion” – it’s restaurant policy. Dean snorts, not surprised but thinking of the absurdity of it. Dean knows why the etiquette dictates it: it supposedly sends a signal to the other party (especially if it’s an omega) that the alpha isn’t thinking about them in a sexual manner and all of his impulses are under control because already taken care of. Very gentlemanly. Except Dean thinks it’s absurd, a whole steaming pile of crap. If he were to go on a date with someone, he’d never ever want to show up with someone else attached to his dick. He wants his date to _know_ that he’s attracted to them _,_ romantically _and_ sexually. He’ll never get how these rich folks thinks. Still, this ain’t his show so he’s not going to run it.

Castiel and Dean walk in and are shown to a table, even though Castiel’s date hasn’t arrived yet.  
The waiter moves the chair away from the table for Castiel and ignores Dean entirely, so he decides to show himself to his pillow.  
‘I’m sorry, Dean’ Castiel says, as Dean makes himself comfortable.  
Dean wonders if Castiel apologised this much even to his predecessors.  
‘It’s all good, Cas. Want me to start?’  
‘Not yet, thank you. I’d rather wait for Jo to show up, since I’ll have to stand up again.’  
Dean nods and so he just looks around, trying to read the room.

Beautiful omegas, decked to the nines and mostly women are kneeling under the tables. It looks a lot classier than the crowd at the last dinner Castiel took him to in New York. Most of them are just doing their jobs, warming their alphas, with very little movements. Dean figures it’d be extremely crass and classless to do otherwise. Everyone is wearing long dresses or suits, jewellery gleaming both on the people sitting at the tables and on those under them.  
Castiel speaks to him in quiet hushed tones while they wait, describing some of the dishes and asking for Dean’s suggestions. He isn’t allowed to eat here, but Cas tells him they are going to get some food to go, because he wants Dean to try it. He doesn’t like this place much, but their chef is unreal and kind of worth the trip.  
‘What the hell is a _comfy the canned R_ , Cas? Stop reading these damn names and tell me what the things actually are’  
Castiel snorts out a small laugh, but Dean can tell he’s not laughing _at_ him. ‘Sorry, yes, their menu is a bit over the top. It just means duck cooked in its own fat. It’s a French recipe, it’s quite good, one of my favourites’  
‘Sounds fancy but I ain’t picky, just get me something with some meat on it’  
Cas starts reading every single item with a foreign name on the menu and translating it for Dean, so they can both laugh at the pretentiousness of it all, but unfortunately their fun is interrupted by Castiel’s actual date finally bothering to show up.  
  
Dean falters when she enters his field of vision. She is absolutely stunning. She’s wearing a dark burgundy velvet dress, her thin ankles are delicately cinched by the strap of her golden heels and her neck and wrists are glittering with gold jewellery. Her hair is gathered at the side and cascading gently on one of her shoulders, her scent is very sweet, too much for Dean’s tastes (he likes ‘em a bit tangier, a bit darker) but undoubtedly 100% omega.  
‘Anael’ says Castiel, standing up to greet her.  
‘Oh, Castiel!’ she says and _of course_ she has the voice of an angel ‘I told you so many times, call me Jo please. It’s good to see you, how have you been?’  
The two of them sit down after some small talk and Dean knows his cue. He moves forward, opens Castiel’s trousers in a few practices moves, and gathers his dick into his mouth. He’s so used to it by now, he does it all day long, every day, but tonight it feels different. Maybe because he’s in public and more exposed, maybe because Castiel is not paying attention to him, maybe because he’s standing in for another omega and working so that _she_ can enjoy Castiel’s full attention. He never _really_ felt demeaned doing this before, but now he wishes he were anywhere but here. As if he could sense his discomfort (which he can’t, because he can’t smell him and Dean’s a good actor), Castiel moves a hand under the table and finds his hair. He pushes his fingers through the strands of Dean’s hair, in a soothing caress and leaves it there. He drinks and waits for his food, he talks with his date, and in the meantime he touches Dean, gently, delicately. It’s not patronising and it’s not pushy. It’s just _there,_ comforting him, reminding Dean that Castiel is aware of him at all times. When his food arrives and he needs to retrieve his hand, he does so slowly, firstly moving his hand down to Dean's cheek to leave the ghost of a caress there too.

Dean is not petty, he’s _not._ But when the conversation at the table starts winding down after the first twenty minutes or so, he feels a cruel sort of happiness. Oh, don’t get him wrong, Anael or Jo or whatever he name is hasn’t stopped talking, but Castiel’s definitely less responsive than he was at the beginning. Not that she seems to mind.

She blabs on about people Dean's never heard of and, judging from the occasional confused question from Castiel, he's never heard of them either. There's little substance to it all and Dean has started this game with himself where he's counting each time she says something positive. They've been there an hour? Count's maybe up to two?  
‘Oh gosh, look Castiel.’ She exclaims at one point, well into the evening ‘Henricksen is here! How could he find the courage to show up in public again? And with _her?_ ’ she sounds delightfully scandalised and Dean rolls his eyes, happy that he’s hidden from view. Castiel doesn’t give her the satisfaction:  
‘I’m not sure what you mean, Anael.’  
‘What?’ she asks, again with that cheerfully shocked tone ‘Didn’t you hear?’ It’s the first time she has sounded really excited the whole evening.  
‘I doubt it’ Castiel replies and Dean hears her chair scrape on the floor as she gets closer to Cas. One of her knees hits Dean's back, but she pulls it away quickly, not bothering with an apology.  
‘See his companion? That was his _cockwarmer_. And I don’t mean the one under the table, but the one sitting across from him!’ She whispers the word, like it’s something dirty that people like her don’t say out loud ‘That gold digger clawed her way up to the table. The fool fell hook line and sinker for it. It’s so embarrassing to see them in public like this! I heard they didn’t invite him to the Miltons for the Christmas party this year, I wonder if he’s regretting getting with her by now. Complete. Social. Suicide.’ she enunciates.  
Castiel doesn’t reply at first and Dean now has his full attention on him. He gives no shits about Henricksen, but he’s intrigued as to what Castiel will say.  
‘They look fairly happy to me’ he says at last, tone even.  
That elicits a rather unladylike snort from the woman ‘P _leee_ ase’ she says ‘Of course they would. He made his bed, now he better lie in it. I’m surprised they even let them in here with the rest of us, considering.’  
  
Dean doesn’t know if she doesn’t care about Castiel’s opinions or if she doesn’t notice his silence, but a frosty atmosphere descends over the table after that. It’s only interrupted when none other than one of Castiel’s many brothers approaches the table.  
‘Castiel! How lovely to see you outside of your miserable home. How is mother? Still holds your leash nice and tight?’  
If Dean needed any clues to figure out which brother this is, this opening has pretty much narrowed the chances down to one.  
‘Lucifer. Hello, how are you?’ Castiel says, tone flat. Bingo. The favourite brother. This evening is going really well for him. Again, Dean’s not petty. He’s not. But maybe, just maybe his good mood has returned.  
  


‘That was unbearable’ it takes Dean a second before realising that Castiel is talking to him and not to himself or to the driver, since the car partition is up, shutting them off from Samandriel. The events of the night are still replaying in Dean's head. He looks over to the man sitting beside him in the back of the car and Castiel is tugging off his tie violently, exposing his neck in the process, and Dean licks his lips looking at all that skin suddenly in plain sight. _God, if he could only…_  
‘I apologise for putting you through that’  
Oh, right, Castiel was talking to him.  
‘What do you mean, sir?’ he asks, honorific slipping out more to tease Castiel than anything else, since he hasn’t used it since pretty much day one.  
Castiel sends him an undecipherable sideway glance ‘You intend on joining the ‘let’s make a mockery of Castiel’ party, as well?’ Dean returns the glance, a bit surprised. He can’t read Castiel’s tone. He doesn’t sound angry but…  
‘You sound bitter, Cas. What is it, you didn’t enjoy your date? She was very charming.’  
Cas huffs out a laugh. ‘I have known Anael for a very long time and I’m sure she’s a very accomplished young lady, but I wish my mother would stop trying to pair me off with her. Even a rock can tell there couldn’t be a worse match and there’s only so many times I can find polite excuses to say no.’  
Dean snorts ‘Sometimes I think a rock has nothing on your mother for stubbornness’. Whoops. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Sassing your employer’s mother definitely counts among the Bad Ideas with capitals. He doesn’t have time to panic because Castiel chuckles and concedes with a nod of his head. ‘Touché’  
‘I figured you weren’t interested when you willingly held a five minute conversation with Lucifer, of all people, rather than going back to talking to her.’  
‘Well. I figured she wasn’t interested when she asked _him_ to take her out for drinks after dinner, instead of me. Perhaps she forgot which Novak she was on a date with.’ Cas counters.  
‘Yeah, it definitely wasn’t because you literally told them you were going to bed _just_ after mentioning the cocktail bar that opened down the road.’  
Cas just sends him another amused glance ‘Am I so easy to read, then?’  
‘Perhaps. Perhaps I just know you really well.’  
Cas's expression shifts into something indecipherable, before he gives him a small smile.  
‘You know what, Dean? I think you do.’

And Dean shouldn’t feel so proud but there’s something touching in that. It’s Castiel’s appreciation for him showing and it makes him more bashful than literally spending the whole day on his knees with the man’s dick in his mouth. He feels seen. The warm feeling he felt in the restaurant when Castiel held his hand in his hair returns in full.  
Dean doesn’t know what exactly prompts him to do it, but he’s never been good at dealing with emotions and Castiel has been confusing him for weeks. He’s a man of actions and now he just acts.  
He moves forward until he can slide off the seat and into the footwell of the car. Then he leans over and with practiced motions he draws Castiel out of his trousers again. The man’s half hard now for some reason and Dean just bends over in a swift motion and swallows him down, this time sucking hard and swallowing around him, none of the soft cradling in sight.  
‘Dean’ Castiel breathes out, and Dean watches as he tilts his head backwards, exposing his strong neck now free of his tie (for the first time!!) and gripping the car seat with his hands. Dean twists his tongue and laps at the head, drawing back slightly to toy with the frenulum with the tip of his tongue. Castiel groans and Dean sees his knuckles go white, his scent growing heavier in the confined space of the car.  
  
He gradually takes more into his throat and then decides to go all out. He’s got a feeling Castiel likes sloppy, even if he’s so tightly bound and neat and controlled the whole time. And they can’t really do sloppy at the office. He starts twisting his head in a half-rotation motion at every suck, while his tongue frantically laves all around the shaft in his mouth. Saliva drips from his open mouth, coating Castiel’s dick in slick liquid. Cas, usually so so quiet even when he comes, can’t seem to shut his mouth now. He’s letting out a stream of small _oh, oh, oh,_ and _Dean, Dean!_ and the occasional low growl which makes Dean’s dick so hard. He bends slightly and changes angle, sucking Castiel from the side and the change makes the man above him gasp and moan loudly and Dean watches the beautiful column of his neck as he swallows. He wants to lick that Adam’s apple so badly. He wants to bite his neck and make his mark there. He wants to sink his teeth deep into his mating gland and hold tight and shake him until the man submits to him, until he is _his._ Cas is starting to twitch in his mouth, swollen and hard, and Dean goes for the kill and does something he’s also never done before. He sucks, hard, while one hand goes up to gently grip Cas’s balls. He tugs on them as he pushes the dick further down his throat, swallowing around it. The other hand grips Castiel's knot, just outside of his lips, and holds it tight. The squeezing and the tugging do it for Cas, who only has time to gasp out ‘Dean, I’m…’ before shooting hot come down Dean’s throat, _flooding_ his mouth. And Dean’s done this many times now, but he’s still unprepared for the sheer amount of come that Cas unloads in his throat, he tries not to choke and he swallows as much as he can, but some come dribbles down his mouth, squeezed out past the dick that’s still pulsing between his lips, running down his chin in white streaks. This time he doesn’t clean it up. He lets it all run down his face, as he keeps slurping, wanting to smear it all over himself, all over his stupid suit, his hands, Cas, the car, everywhere. Just as a permanent reminder that _he_ was the one who made him come this hard.

This is not Dean’s job. He’s not warming Castiel. They’re not in public, they’re not at work. This is Dean giving Cas a blowjob. Castiel has barely stopped coming when Dean gets dragged up on the seat and then Castiel’s face presses against his neck and his hands fumble desperately at the fly of his trousers. Dean is so hard it hurts and Castiel seems determined to reciprocate the favour. He moans, a guttural deep sound right from his throat, when Cas finally frees him from his trousers and underwear. ‘ _Fuck,_ Dean.’ Castiel hums, palming Dean’s large dick like he can’t believe an omega can be that sizeable. Dean prays that the darkness and the fabric between them won’t give his knot away because there is _no chance in hell_ he’s going to make Castiel stop now. Not when he’s finally in his lap, face pressed against his gorgeous dark hair, smelling so gloriously good. Cas’s hands are large and warm, just on the right side of too rough as they jerk him steadily. Oh god, it’s so fucking good. He’s touching him like Dean touches himself, rough, hard, squeezing like a vice. Other people are always too careful, too delicate, but Cas is jerking him off like he’s an _alpha,_ like this is what he likes on himself and Dean’s feeling lightheaded. He pants as he tries to hold on, but then Castiel twists his hand right on top of his cockhead and growls ‘Come on, Dean, come for me’ and Dean’s world goes white as he comes between them. He shoves a hand in his pants to grip the base of his dick and hide his knot as Castiel milks him roughtly, wrings out the last of his orgasm, pulling hard and squeezing at every twitch, just how Dean likes it. 

They catch their breath pressed together, an unholy mess of come between them, covering every piece of clothing and probably the seat of the car too.  
Dean hears Castiel giggle, noise muffled in Dean's neck ‘What the hell are you laughing at?’ he asks, amused, voice fond.  
‘Samandriel is absolutely going to murder me when he sees the state of the car’  
Dean laughs with him. Thank god for bad dates.

Their dynamic shifts after that, but not in the way Dean could have expected. He wasn’t so stupid as to hope that suddenly Cas would want him for _him_ and not as his employee, but he also wasn’t expecting this… friendship? to develop between them. After the dreadful date with Anael, Dean had been dropped off at his house since it was late, but he had left his regular clothes behind at Castiel’s. Which means, he had to go pick it up another day that week after work. They had ended up having a drink together and one thing follows the other until Dean realises it’s been a month of him hanging out at Castiel’s at least twice a week. 

It’s still guarded. It’s not sexual nor it is too intimate between them, even though the long glances they exchange when the night is winding down are not easy to misunderstand. They chat, but mostly about books and movies (since Castiel basically lives in a library but doesn’t even own a TV and the heathen hasn’t been in a cinema since frigging _Avatar,_ and that’s a crime in itself). Dean introduces him to some decent rock, since Cas’s music taste is atrocious and the man insists on listening to chamber music at home. Eventually they find a common ground in blues and start going through all the greatest artists, listening to a different album every time Dean stops for a drink. It should make work awkward since they’re slowly becoming friends, but it’s not. Dean’s more laid back than ever, actually, and Castiel works like a machine, efficiency going through the roof. Dean tries to pretend that this is normal, that they’re just good buddies, that Castiel’s scent isn’t the most distracting smell he’s ever had to deal with and that he’s not interested in anything else. It almost works.

He and Cas have lunch together every day like that first time months ago, and Dean’s grown so accustomed to it that he doesn’t even bother to keep a professional façade up when it’s just them in the kitchen. Their language these days is mostly ribbing, anyway.  
‘I’m telling you, Cas, that’s not how normal humans do it! Didn’t they teach you that in robot school?’  
Cas looks adorably grumpy at the teasing, alpha scent getting all spicy but in a way that Dean knows it’s more playful than anything. Dean is not saying that he teases Cas just to smell how delicious he gets, but he is _not_ not saying that either. ‘I resent that Dean. It’s a perfectly acceptable way of socialising.’  
‘Yeah sure, if you’ve never popped a knot outside of your own palm before.’ Cas squints his eyes and tilts his head, smirking at Dean ‘You know for a fact that that’s not the case’ and it’s Dean’s turn to blush.

If before, Dean set out to do his job almost perfunctorily, thinking of it as a ‘less-than-ideal-but-still-acceptable’ task, now he wakes up with a spring in his step and he looks forward to going to work. If he accidentally gets hard every now and then in the shower or in his bed, as he thinks about having his lips wrapped around that beautiful cock, feeling Castiel’s legs twitch, hearing Castiel’s breathing change pattern as he becomes aroused, tasting Castiel’s come when his release floods his mouth, well… who could blame him?  
It’s even harder trying to keep his dick under control at work, but he’s thankful that the scent blockers prevent anyone from realising it. In the privacy of his own home, however, all bets are off. The only problem is that Sam starts noticing.  
‘Dean, what’s going on with you?’ he asks one day, as he corners Dean in the kitchen after dinner.  
‘What do you mean, squirt?’  
Sam levels him with a glare ‘Dean. You’re washing the dishes. And _humming._ And I know how much you hate washing the dishes. You stopped trying to force me to do them weeks ago. So who is it?’  
The kid’s damn too smart for his own good.  
‘Can’t a man just be in a good mood? And who’s who?’  
‘You know what I mean. And don’t try and pretend there’s no one because you literally _stink_ of another alpha’s scent every day. And if even I can smell it, it must be bad.’  
Dean nearly drops a soapy dish in the sink, catching it at the last second. ‘It’s just because we work together. At the mansion, ya know? It’s physical work, it’s bound to rub off’ he mumbles, hoping that the excuse isn’t as weak as it sounds to his own ears. He needs to start showering as soon as he gets home, damn.  
‘Dean’ Sam says patiently ‘You don’t have to pretend with me. Listen, I don’t care if it’s an alpha or an omega or a beta or a cauliflower, as long as they make you happy. You know that, right?’  
Dean pointedly keeps his eyes fixed on that tiny spot of crusted lasagne which refuses to move from the plate.  
‘I ain’t attracted to alphas, Sam. That’s not what this is’  
‘Yeah, alright. I hope you told that to Rhonda, a few years back? Or Pam, at Benny’s party last year?’  
God _damn,_ stupid teenagers and their observation skills and their sass-coded language.  
‘That’s different Sam, they’re women’  
‘Oh so this one is a guy?’  
_Fuck.  
_‘And even so? Wait, female omegas, female betas and female alphas and male omegas and male betas are alright, but not male alphas? That is one hell of an orientation, Dean’ Sam says, listing the various combinations with his fingers, like he’s making a sort of point.  
Dean’s had enough with this conversation. ‘Mind your own fucking business’ he snaps ‘And leave me alone and stop obsessing over the people I sleep with, you frigging weirdo. Now go do homework or whatever the hell it is a sixteen year old annoying pup does’  
‘ _Not_ a pup, Dean. And whatever, be pigheaded. I was just trying to be supportive, but forget it.’ and Sam storms off, leaving Dean with a sink full of dirty water and a heart full of guilt. It ain’t Sam’s fault that he’s got serious issues at admitting things to himself. It ain’t anyone’s fault, but he’s ok with it, so he’d just appreciate being left alone, thank you very much.

Eventually, about seven months in, Dean and Cas end up talking about Inias. It all started because Uriel walked in on them bantering in the kitchen and had stopped to stare. Dean was showing Castiel photos of the Halloweed party at the Roadhouse and a picture of Dean’s costume _before_ and _after_ his encounter with a full bowl of dark red punch, so the two were very close together. Uriel had watched them but hadn’t said anything at the time, but merely slinked back to whatever hell he’d crawled out of. Except, it was clearly a hell from which Naomi could also be summoned, because she had appeared just a few minutes later.  
Dean could smell her usually very neutral scent turn so icy that his nose started feeling tingly and painful like he was caught in a blizzard.  
‘What is going on in here?’ she asked. Neither of them had said anything but had jumped apart as if burned.  
‘This better not be an Inias 2.0 situation, Castiel, Dean. You have both been warned before.’  
‘No ma’am’ Dean says, at the same time as Castiel replies ‘No mother’. _Fuck,_ could they be any more obvious? She narrows her eyes and Castiel sobers up, realising quite how serious she is ‘Mother, do not worry. Inias was a vastly different person from Dean, the situation was completely different too, there is no danger of that happening again.’ Dean doesn’t know much about Inias, but he nods vigorously. ‘We just enjoy chatting at lunchtime, I hope it’s not inappropriate. You do so with Uriel, after all.’  
She looks at them silently, lips pursed like she’s sucking on a lemon. ‘If I hadn’t seen the improvement in your productivity since Dean’s arrived with my own eyes we would be having a very different conversation today, Castiel. I trust I will not need to remind you again of what the consequences will be if that changes.’  
‘No, mother’ Castiel says, lowering his head to the older alpha. It feels all kinds of wrong to see him do that and Dean wrinkles his nose when Cas’s scent turns duller, flatter.  
Dean realises she’s waiting for his answer too, so he is quick to mutter ‘It won’t change, ma’am.’  
Once she leaves, the two of them exchange a glance and suddenly they’re muffling a snort and a laugh, like teenagers caught doing something wrong who got away with it. God, combined they make a 57 year old man, they shouldn’t be this immature.  
‘So are you ever going to tell me what happened with Inias? Or do I have to get Meg drunk so she can spill your secrets?’  
Castiel snorts ‘Good luck with that, she can drink all of us under the table.’ He fiddles with a glass of water ‘Inias was… misguided.’ He chooses his words carefully, more serious than before, so Dean knows he better pay attention ‘He was a lovely sweet man, but mistook my kindness for romantic interest and overstepped his bounds far too many times. My mother is less patient than me and he was fired on the spot when she found out.’  
  
Dean can hear the message loud and clear for the warning it is. _Do not get attached._ He nods and doesn’t pry further. He pushes the memory of their fumbling in the back of Cas’s car far far back into a drawer in his mind and decides to seal it shut.


	6. Catching thieves, skipping classes

Dean had almost forgotten the reason why there’s a mirror hidden under Castiel’s desk, stuck to one of the wood panels. He put it there months ago and he uses it regularly to check out the people who come and go in Castiel’s office and stave off boredom. But he hasn’t exactly kept his eyes peeled for anything else and therefore corporate espionage is the last thing on his mind when one of Castiel’s consultants, one of those who visit pretty often, comes in through the door one Tuesday in early November.   
No, forget corporate espionage, Dean has a much more basic and biological reason to be wary of Metatron.  
  
‘Ahhh, Castiel, my boy! How is your knot hanging today?’ Dean knows that voice well. Ugh. The reason why he hates when Metatron visits is because Castiel dislikes him so much that his scent turns sour and Dean has to suffer through keeping him in his mouth even when he tastes of vinegar and burnt rubber. He tries to do his best not to swallow and opens his mouth a little so he can stop inhaling through his nose, though it’s almost impossible. He doesn’t blame Castiel, mind. Metatron is one of Castiel’s oldest consultants, he even worked with his father Charles many years ago, but he has a way of talking in these meetings which make everyone die of boredom or second-hand embarrassment halfway through. He loves the sound of his own voice, he is vaguely inappropriate, and he always looks like he’s in sore need of a shower. But most importantly, Dean hates that he can’t ever smell the guy and can’t get a read on him. He knows it’s ironic, considering he’s a walking stick of neutral scent himself, but it’s precisely because of it that he knows that people only cover their scent so obsessively when they’ve got something to hide.

Metatron is a pacer, he paces up and down, never stops talking, shoves papers upon papers at Castiel, goes up to his screen to check one thing or the other. He also is remarkably stupid, because when he slips a hand under the desk and starts feeling around with his fingers, he forgets that there is a whole person hidden under it. A person with eyes and a working brain and a mirror. Dean knows that one advantage of being a cockwarmer is that no one tends to pay any attention to him, but that doesn’t mean he _likes_ being dehumanised. Today, however, he doesn’t mind that much since it appears that it’s his lucky day to take revenge over the system.

Through the mirror, he watches as Metatron finds what he’s looking for and Dean hadn’t even noticed it before, but it looks like a post-it, taped to the bottom of the desk, on the other side from where Dean is kneeling. He can’t really read what’s on it, since it’s a bit too dark under there, but in the couple of seconds it takes Metatron to retrieve it, he notices it’s got what looks like a string of letters and numbers written on it. What the hell? He doesn’t have time to read much else, as Metatron pockets it and it’s suddenly hidden from view.  
Dean keeps his eyes peeled on the scentless man, Castiel is currently busy reading out some numbers to him that the guy requested, so he doesn’t notice a thing. Oh – Dean thinks – shit is about to hit the fan. He waits until the man has left the room before popping off Castiel.

‘Hey, mind if I use the bathroom?’   
‘Of course, Dean, you know you don’t need to ask’

Dean gets up and just rushes off to the corridor, forgetting to even tuck Castiel back in. _whoops._ Whatever, this is important.   
He follows Metatron, instincts screaming to not let him out of his sight. And in fact, Metatron is not where he should be. Dean lingers at the end of the corridor, hidden behind a corner, as he watches the grubby-looking man cast a cautious glance around, checking to see if he’s alone. Why is Metatron heading upstairs? Dean knows the mansion like the back of his hand by now, so he keeps his ears open and he follows him. There’s only one place he could be heading to and that’s the library. And in fact, Metatron takes a sharp turn to the right and disappears behind the library doors. Suddenly the meaning of the post-it clicks into clarity in Dean’s head. He considers what to do. He could go after him, but there’s almost no chances the man won’t see him if Dean follows him into the room. And if he’s doing something he shouldn’t, this would ruin Dean’s chances of finding out what it is. On the other hand, what if there’s nothing suspicious here and Dean is just barking up the wrong tree?   
He wavers for a minute before he steels his resolve. Come on, now. He needs to trust his instincts, they’re not usually wrong.

A minute later he’s back in Castiel’s office, whispering.   
‘Cas’  
‘Yes Dean?’ Castiel looks up as Dean re-enters the room.   
‘Don’t let him get out of this house’   
Castiel seems perplexed ‘Excuse me?’   
‘Metatron. Don’t let him get out of the house. He’s your mole’   
Castiel jumps up instantly, shooting back from his chair.   
‘Dean, are you sure? How do you know?’ his tone is clipped and urgent, but not disbelieving.   
‘Listen. As I was kneeling, I saw him pick up a post-it with something on it from under there. And I’m pretty sure it’s library shelfmark number. Now, I might be wrong, but the bottom of your desk is hardly a place to leave book club suggestions, wouldn’t you say?’   
‘ _Fuck,_ you’re serious?’ Oh, God, Cas swearing does things to him. Dean is serious, but he isn’t _sure._ Still, he nods. In for a penny… ‘If you’re right about this, we have to catch him before he leaves. Go to my mother’s office, explain the situation. Make sure you’re _alone_ when you do so. Tell her to call down the lawyers and I’ll stop Metatron as he leaves, delay him enough.’   
Dean nods and runs out, hellbent on finding Naomi as soon as possible.

He finds her in a meeting with Uriel and it takes a hell of a long time to convince her that he needs to talk to her alone. It’s probably just a little more than a minute, but it feels endless.   
When he explains the situation to her, she looks highly dubious. ‘And you think this is of any relevance because…?’   
‘Listen, I just think there’s something sketchy going on. Just call the lawyers, pass it off as a regular staff check, he can’t refuse without risking looking suspicious’   
She seems conflicted, but eventually picks up the phone and Dean releases a long breath he hadn’t realised he was keeping in.  
'If you get us sued for this, Dean, I will have your head' she threatens once she hangs up. 

It’s just a minute later that Castiel and Metatron walk into Naomi’s office unannounced. Castiel seems to have adopted Metatron’s own techniques against him, because he’s busy talking his ear off, while the other man just looks confused.   
‘…so you see why this results in us checking all of the consultants, staff, and contractors who come into the house, you understand, it’s nothing personal – mind if I take that? And mind emptying your pockets?’   
‘Wait, what?’   
But Castiel’s already grabbing his bag out of his hands and emptying the contents on the table. Fuck, Dean bounces his leg frenetically, if he’s wrong about this, he could land them all in hot water, he’s pretty sure Castiel doesn’t have the right to go through the other man’s stuff like that. Metatron is protesting loudly now, but there’s already a bunch of papers falling on the desk – nothing special, a phone – it might be too much to go through that, a post it – now Dean can read it clearly: LH.432.C.86 (he was right about the library shelfmark at least), and finally an unmarked USB stick – bingo?   
Naomi eyes it warily, clearly torn between anxiety and desire to find out what’s on it, and the keen awareness that what they’re doing is probably bordering on (if not full-on) illegal.

‘What’s this? Do you mind if we take a look?’  
‘You have no right!’ Metatron starts, but his panic is enough to convince everyone that there is, in fact, something that the man is worried about.   
Castiel sticks the USB into the computer port and Dean holds his breath, eyes fixed on Castiel’s face. He can’t see the screen from where he’s standing, so he can only hope. He watches as Castiel’s expression goes from calm and fake-pleasant to brooding and tight-lipped.   
‘What is this, Metatron?’ he asks, eyes fixed on the screen as he makes a few clicks with the mouse.  
Icy scents fill the room, similar in their power, coming from Naomi and Castiel as the two alphas consider the contents of the USB stick. Silence falls, as Metatron refuses to answer the question. Then Castiel twists the monitor until it’s facing Metatron and Dean can finally see: right there, on the screen, are pictures of contracts and agreements which should never have been on a digital support. Especially not one in Metatron’s possession. Dean draws a breath. Everything grinds to a standstill.

It’s only broken by a loud knock on the door and then suddenly four lawyers are walking into the room. The fallout is _epic._ Metatron is dragged to a chair kicking and screaming (metaphorically speaking, in reality it’s rather more like a whimper as he scurries to obey), as Castiel, Naomi and the team of lawyers (whom Dean’s never seen before, do they keep them in the basement? What the hell?) corner him and force him to confess.

‘Fine, _fine!_ ’ Metatron snaps at last, voice going from pathetic whimper to something a lot ruder, a lot blunter, making everyone recoil in surprise. ‘I had a chance to get first access to your files and took it, sue me!’   
‘Oh, we will’ Naomi growls, managing to keep her voice sounding even and silky even through that sound.   
The police gets called and Metatron is left with a security guard and a two of the lawyers, as Castiel and Naomi go to Castiel’s office to debrief, Dean in tow.

‘…wasn’t expecting that. He was so loyal to your father.’   
‘Yes, well, perhaps not as loyal as we thought. I always instinctively disliked the man, now I have a reason. We need to go back and assess all cases, see if he could have been involved in the disaster with…’

Dean looks between the two of them for a second, before clearing his throat. ‘Uhm, guys?’   
If Naomi objects to being called ‘guys’ she _totally_ looks it.   
‘We’re busy here, Dean, if you hadn’t noticed’ Naomi answers for him, tone making it clear that he’s dismissed.   
Cas looks at him, though, and whatever he sees in Dean’s expression has him nod and say ‘What is it, Dean?’   
‘Aren’t you forgetting a rather important element here? How did Metatron always know _exactly_ when to show up? He’s not an insider, he can’t know when a contract is being finalised. There must be someone else here telling him when to come in. Who left the post-it? Who hid the USB stick in a library book?' he looks between the two of them before continuing 'It's someone who knows they can’t send the copies of the contracts electronically because correspondence is checked, someone who doesn’t want to do the deed themselves because they know they’d be kept under closer scrutiny, and someone who has access to your office. Can you think of someone like that?’   
Castiel recoils and then looks murderous.  
‘There are, let’s see, ten people who would know this kind of information.’ He starts counting with his fingers ‘You – and I don’t think you’d be so stupid to lead me to investigate yourself, and also this all started way earlier than when you joined the company -, me, my mother, Uriel, Hannah and Meg, and our lawyers.’  
‘Well then, which one of them would work with Metatron to fuck you over and get a cut of the money?’ The answers is so obvious to Dean, but he lets Cas and Naomi draw their own conclusions.  
‘I’m not sure. I refuse to believe either Meg or Hannah would betray me like that.’  
‘Surely Uriel isn’t responsible’ Naomi comments ‘He works with me all day long. And our lawyers work together, so it would be hard for one of them to keep this business hidden from the others. Besides, they are hardly ever down in Castiel’s office.’   
‘I can’t help you with that’ Dean comments ‘but I suggest you figure it out _fast,_ before they delete all evidence’

It turns out that despite their best attempts, there’s nothing more they can do. They’ve already crossed so many lines they don’t dare to go through Metatron’s phone. The only thing left to do is to wait for the police investigation. Considering how long it takes for them just to come pick up Metatron from the mansion, it’s going to be a long one.

Needless to say, the next few days are _very_ tense. Castiel is angry, Naomi is angry, Uriel, Hannah and Meg are tense, fully aware that one of them is most likely the mole. Dean is on high alert, concerned for Cas, but he also can’t help but feeling a bit smug about his role in all this.

It is only five days later that his smugness literally skyrockets. He hardly ever remembers feeling so rightfully vindicated as when he watches Uriel being taken away by the police.   
They knocked on the mansion’s door that morning, said a word to no one, but showed an arrest warrant for the man. It was pretty clear to everyone why they were there.   
‘Enjoy prison!’ Dean yells at him, standing on the front porch as Uriel is taken away. 'And fuck you!' Uriel scowls darkly at him and sneers, so Dean just bares his teeth aggressively and defiantly. Oh, how sweet vengeance feels.

  
‘… can’t believe that bastard’ Hannah comments a few hours later, as she, Meg and Dean are having a celebratory dinner in the kitchen, together with a solid number of the other omega employees. They’re having pizza, as a last _fuck you_ to Uriel, who apparently had been texting Metatron when to come in for more intel under the guise of putting an order for pizza delivery. Pathetic.  
‘All those times he kept giving me shit for being unprofessional, and look at that’ Hannah continues   
‘Yeah right, because his hands constantly on your leg during meetings was the height of professionalism’ Meg drawls, taking a sip of her beer.   
Hannah visibly shivers and even Dean has to suppress a grimace.   
‘He never did that to you, though’ Hannah comments.   
‘Oh he tried.’ pipes up a guy with red hair and a beard that Dean's pretty sure is called Matt ‘It was before you joined the company, Hannah. We all remember because the next morning he had to call a cab because his tires had been _mysteriously_ slashed. He was raging about it for days.’   
Meg just grins, stretching her legs in front of her. ‘They never proved anything’   
‘How about you, Deano? Got any trouble from the old fucker?’   
Dean shrugs, taking a sip of his beer ‘He tried. I will count this as my personal vendetta. Although I wish I had thought of the tires myself. I’m normally a hands-on guy.’ he winks and clinks his beer bottle with Meg’s and they nod at each other in approval.   
The house is plunged in a general good mood after that, with the exclusion of Naomi who looks like she’s on a strict diet of bitter lemons. Everyone just gives her a wide berth.

  
The next morning, Castiel is waiting for Dean near the door when he comes in.   
‘Hey Cas’ Dean greets him, curious. Castiel doesn’t even let him take his jacket off and he grabs his shoulder, steadying him and looking straight into his eyes.   
‘Dean.’ he starts, seriously ‘I owe you my thanks. If it weren’t for you, we would have never found Metatron or Uriel. You saved this company, Dean. I apologise for not thanking you properly earlier’ He says, voice full of fervour ‘It’s been a crazy few days’  
Dean feels pretty pleased with himself but he just rubs a hand down the back of his neck, embarrassed about being put on the spot like this.   
‘I gotta say, it would never have worked if you hadn’t taken my word for it so thanks for trusting me Cas, I guess.’   
Castiel is still holding his shoulders firmly as he stares at Dean seriously, a depth of feeling reappearing in those blue eyes ‘Of course I trust you, Dean. I always will. You are privy to the most delicate information of this company and to my most intimate secrets, and I never once doubted you would respect them. You have proven yourself to me again and again. You are a true friend, I hope you know that I consider you so.’ If Dean’s insides clench painfully at the unexpected declaration of trust, he hopes Castiel doesn’t notice.   
Dean looks away and clears his throat, hoping that it’ll be interpreted as inability to take compliments. Which it is, in part. But not for the first time, Dean’s desire to come clean to Cas burns like a raging fire in his stomach. He gotta tell Cas that he’s an alpha. And soon.

  
*

Sometimes it’s harder than usual to remember why he’s lying to all of his coworkers, to his friends, to his brother and especially to Castiel. Sometimes he wonders what the hell he’s keeping all these secrets for. Obviously, the main reason he’s doing this, the reason why he spends his days with another alpha’s dick in his mouth, swallows his come, obediently cradles his balls and ignores his own throbbing knot between his legs, is Sammy. It’s always Sammy, his wellbeing, his happiness, his future, his one shot at making it big and going to a fancy expensive college. But it’s particularly hard to remember why Sam deserves all this when he pulls the sort of shit on Dean like he has today.  
‘You’re _skipping school_? What the hell, Sam?’ he screams into his phone, mind almost blank with rage. Today at work it’s been particularly challenging, he was followed all the way to his car by one of Castiel’s clients who seemed hell-bent on refusing to take a frigging _no_ for an answer. _No,_ Dean’s not interested in switching bosses, _no,_ he doesn’t do private shows (what the hell does this man think his job description is), _no,_ he ain’t interested in taking a knot for a ‘hefty reward’. The man also stunk of alpha, in the usual way that gets Dean all riled up by the close proximity, not in the way that makes him want to get snuggle between Castiel’s legs and never re-emerge.   
‘Oh my god, Dean, what’s it to you? Who even told you anyway?’   
‘What do you mean what’s it…’ he pinches the bridge of his nose trying to keep calm, because he knows this conversation is going nowhere otherwise.   
‘Listen, Sam. I’m not here busting my ass every day to give you a chance at college only to have it thrown out of the window, and for what? What’s so important that you need to do it during school hours? Are you trying to be _cool,_ Sammy? Do you think that people will like you better if you become a bad boy? Newsflash, little bro, they don’t and they won’t. I’m the living proof of that so quit being an idiot and stop skipping.’  
‘Who asked you to do that for me anyway?’ Sam screams ‘Stop it with the self-sacrificing shit, Dean, God! If you like to play the victim don’t bring me into it. Besides, you dropped out of school at sixteen and no one gave you shit for it!’   
Dean’s blood runs cold ‘No, they didn’t. And you know why? Because there was _no one_ around who could. Because it was either me quitting or both of us. So I don’t care if you don’t want my help. You are going take it anyway. It’s my job to go to work and it’s _your_ job to go to school.’ Sam doesn’t even bother with a response, just gives him an annoyed angry huff through the phone and hangs up.   
Dean stares at the screen, feeling like someone just force fed him shit. He clenches his jaw and sets out to prepare dinner. Maybe a hot meal will set things straight between him and Sam.   
  
Except, Sam doesn’t come home for dinner. Dean’s worried, of course, but he doesn’t want to go too hard on the kid or he’ll just lash out again. So, even if he’s exhausted, he settles on the couch and waits for Sam to return. When he gets back it’s already past midnight. He clearly wasn’t expecting Dean to still be awake, because Dean hears him freeze when he notices that the light is still on.   
‘Sammy. Come here please’ he says, voice rough but tired, hoping it conveys his unwillingness to fight again. His little brother walks into the living room but doesn’t look at Dean and doesn’t sit down, crossing his arms and pointedly staring at the wall.   
‘What?’   
‘I was worried. I’m not going to ask where you were tonight, but we need to talk about school’   
Sam turns around to storm off again, before Dean gets up and grabs him by the arm.   
‘Sammy, please. I don’t want to fight with you. I just need to understand.’   
‘Let go’ Sam says, twisting his arm to get away. Dean releases him immediately, but doesn’t step back.   
‘I got a call from your teachers, they said you’re reaching your absences limit. I had no idea.’ He says, tone gentle ‘What happened, anyway? You always loved studying. What’s changed?’   
Sam huffs, but there’s no heat there. Dean knows by now that he’s just keeping up the pretense because he can’t back down now, he’s too proud for that.   
‘Nothing _happened,_ Dean. I just got bored of just being the nerdy kid. I found some kids who are pretty cool, we hang out sometimes. I’m not dumb, ok? I only skip when the class is going to be pointless. My grades are still alright, just check if you don’t believe me’ he says, defiantly.   
‘Of course I believe you. But it’s not just grades, it’s absences too. You gotta be careful Sam, I don’t want you to waste that brain of yours just because you’re bored. I know you’re too smart for school, but you just gotta hang on until college, then life will get more interesting, I promise’   
Sam seems unconvinced, but the fight has clearly gone out of him. He deflates and nods, tiredly.   
Dean ruffles his hair and gives him a little push ‘Alright, pup. Go on then, go catch some sleep.’   
‘Oh, and Sam? If you get some omega pregnant there’ll be _hell_ to pay, ya hear me?’   
Sam shoots him an unamused bitch face and disappears into his room, slamming the door. Thank fuck the kid hasn’t presented yet, otherwise Dean would have a whole other set of headaches.


	7. Rookie mistake number two

Between one thing and the next, December comes along. Dean hasn’t received any more phone calls from Sam’s school, he can go to work without fear of being harassed by Uriel, and life is good. He’s had to do quite a few overtimes in the last month, but he’s found it hard to complain about it since his bank account is happy. He might even be able to get a decent Christmas present for the little brat this year.

There’s a buzz in the air which has everything to do with the outrageous amount of Christmas decorations that have been scattered around the large mansion. He’s heard stories from both Meg and Hannah about the legendary lavishness of the company Christmas party and for once he’s actually very excited to attend. It’s a rare chance for him to mingle with the rest of the staff, instead of spending a whole evening kneeling between Castiel’s legs while other people enjoy the food and drinks. This year it’s also going to be a celebration for getting rid of Metatron and Uriel and salvaging numerous deals, so it’s probably going to be more extravagant than usual. Dean never though he’s see _Naomi_ of all people strutting down the halls humming Christmas carols, but here we are. She stops immediately when she notices Dean, but he just sends her a shit-eating grin and she _allllmost_ look flustered for a second when he promises he won’t hold it against her.

The evening of the party, Dean arrives at the mansion wearing his best suit, the dark green one he’s worn in New York months ago and which made heads turn. As he steps out of his gleaming black Impala, he thinks he looks pretty good, and if the glances he’s getting from everyone are any indication, they think so too. He’s wearing blockers, but also a really nice cologne which is masculine and ambiguous enough as to not reveal much about his presentation. His hair is slicked to the side, giving him a 1920s sort of look, and he’s wearing a bow tie instead of a regular tie. He struts confidently down the hall, fiddling with his cufflinks just because he knows the pose makes his forearms look particularly good. He stops when he gets to the large room where the drinks are taking place.  
The room has been transformed into a cavernous hall, glittering with crystal and gold decorations and obscured by dark grey velvet curtains blocking the light from the outside. Large branches covered in fake snow are hanging from the ceiling, large enough that people need to move around them to mingle. It looks like an enchanted forest and Dean is _very_ impressed. He’s never been to anything quite so fancy and he figures one day he’ll stop being so starstruck by everything if he keeps working for Castiel.  
The man’s not in sight yet, so Dean grabs a cocktail (thankfully he found something with bourbon) and decides to enjoy himself. There’s a table with snacks and canapes, where he’s sure he’ll set up camp at some point during the night, a pretty cool sound system and a bunch of well-dressed women on the prowl. Lovely. He figures he needs to up his game a little since they’re unlikely to fall for the same _shtick_ he uses at the roadhouse, but it shouldn’t be too hard since he’s already attracting his fair share of attention. He has never seen most of the people here and Hannah tells him that it’s because the party is open to all their clients, not just staff. _Even better –_ Dean thinks. He’ll stick to clients and he might not even have to hide his true scent by the end of the night.

By the time Castiel and Naomi arrive, the celebrations are in full swing. Dean himself is already pretty tipsy, having been force-fed a couple of cocktails in half an hour by a beautiful beta brunette who seem to have taken his lack of scent as a personal challenge. She winks at him and gives him sultry looks and she smells good enough that Dean’s more than willing to put some effort in. She tells him she’s a massage therapist and works in-house to offer complimentary treatments to the staff, so Dean’s got his opening served on a silver plate as he tells her he wishes she could _do him_ sometimes and that he’s very upset he has never come across her before. Her scent grows interested, holding the promise of something more.

But their little mating dance is interrupted when silence falls in the room at the entrance of the Novak family, cue for the string quartet to start playing. Castiel and his mother are accompanied by a few other people Dean recognises, including all the Novak siblings. Lucifer, Michael, Anna and Gabriel make an impressive team alongside Castiel and Naomi. Dean wonders what sort of deal with the devil that family must have made to get all the good looks and the fat wallets. Anael (or Jo, whatever) is there as well, but this time she’s hanging off Michael’s arm. Huh, must be a family that’s pretty comfortable with sharing, Dean muses, watching her bat her eyelashes at the eldest Novak sibling as both Castiel and Lucifer ignore her effortlessly.  
Shortly after their entrance, the family disperses to schmooze up various important people and Dean notices that during the little show the beta, Robin, has disappeared. Damn. He hopes she’ll still be around by the end of the night.

He continues to mingle and starts tackling the canapes like he’s getting paid for it, but he doesn’t approach Castiel. He can’t pinpoint exactly the reason why, since they're friends, but he figures it’s better like this. He is hyper-aware of where the other man is at all times though, and who he’s speaking to. A tiny pang of irrational jealousy strikes him in the stomach every time he watches him converse with a beautiful man or woman, even though Dean knows his posture well enough to read his uninterested stance. But when he realises that he’s overanalysing Castiel’s body language, his mind is sent reeling once again and he frowns into his (fourth? fifth?) cocktail, wondering what the hell is wrong with him.

‘Oh sugar, save yourself the heartache’ Meg’s voice, much closer than he expected, makes him jump and almost spill his drink on himself. Her voice is soft but her tone is mocking ‘We’ve all tried, trust me’  
He turns around to glare at her. She’s wearing a beautiful long black dress which enhances her curves, gone is the sexy-but-proper secretary looks she rocks every day, now she looks more like a dangerous seductress, with her red lips and the deliberately provocative low-cut of her décolleté.  
‘I don’t know what you mean, Masters’  
She smiles at him dangerously ‘Oh, I don’t? Maybe I’m just imagining all the looks you’ve been sending him tonight.’  
Dean rolls his eyes ‘Please. As if I need to, I spend my days with him, in case you’ve forgotten’  
She grins ‘Well, Inias did too – in case you’ve forgotten’ she counters.

Well, look at that. It seems like Dean doesn’t even need to get her drunk to hear more about his predecessor.  
‘Yeah I never really got the whole story’ he says casually, trying to feign disinterest.  
‘I am delighted to indulge you. Here’ and she presses another drink into his hand. ‘So’ she starts, eyes sparkling with mischief ‘Inias was a pathetic excuse of an omega’  
‘Woah, harsh’ Dean comments, surprised. Meg's thorny, but usually doesn't just _insult_ people. But she just silences him with a glare ‘Listen, he was _obsessed_ with Castiel. But instead of doing what me and you would do in that circumstance… well, I suppose what we _have_ done in this circumstance’ she winks at him ‘which is to go out and ride so many knots that we forget Castiel even existed, Inias didn’t let up. No, he was persistent. He kept flirting with poor little Clarence, throwing himself at him. He would douse himself in scent enhancers, try to get the big bad alpha aroused during meetings. He would purposefully slick all over the place and scent mark Castiel’s things, so that he had to carry his smell all over the place.’

Dean's disgusted and a little horrified. ‘Jesus! That’s the frigging opposite of what Castiel hired him for.’  
‘Precisely. It was more of a distraction than anything by that point. But poor Clarence is obviously too kind to tell him to fuck off. After a few months, he starts showing up at Castiel’s house with one excuse or the other, throwing a fit when the housekeeper doesn’t let him in. Then Castiel started feeling really uncomfortable, because how can you trust a guy like that with your big manly alpha dick all day? I mean, I wouldn’t know but the thought of having someone so obsessed with you literally hanging off your knot every day is… disturbing’  
Dean just nods in agreement, horrified at the thought of that happening to him. He brings his legs closer together involuntarily. Cas hadn’t said anything about the extent to which Inias had crossed boundaries.  
‘So anyway, one night Naomi has Cas host some business dinner here and Inias thinks it’s his chance. They both have rooms here to crash for the night, like you do now, so after dinner he goes to Castiel’s and walks in completely naked. He basically throws himself at him, I guess trying to show that he’s ready for his alpha to finally claim him. Castiel couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Hannah was in the corridor and saw the whole thing. Actually thought that Cas and Inias had a fling going and that they were being kinky and exhibitionists until she heard Castiel’s response and watched him effectively run away from the naked omega.’ She laughs, like the story is hilarious. Dean just feels bad for Cas.  
‘Inias was fired faster than he could put his clothes back on, when Naomi found out. So yeah’ she pats him on the cheek ‘trust me when I say to save yourself the embarrassment.’

Dean opens his mouth to retort that she’s got it all wrong and he’d rather eat his own dick than ever behave like that, but Meg’s already gone so the best next thing is to stuff his face with canapes, hoping they’ll soak up some of the alcohol. It’s in that graceful situation that Robin finds him again.  
‘I see you’re enjoying the food!’ she laughs, teasingly.  
He smiles around a mouthful of olives ‘Something to know about me, I _always_ enjoy the food’  
‘Oh yeah? What else do you enjoy Dean?’ she asks, this time in a much more flirtatious tone. It’s not the best banter Dean’s ever heard, but he’ll take it, even if just to distract himself from what images Meg put in his mind.  
But right at that moment there is a general lull in the noise of the room as the band stops playing and people quit speaking. Then, the subject of his most intrusive thoughts steps in the middle of the room with a microphone in hand.

‘Good evening, everybody’ says Castiel, a bit awkwardly, and Dean smirks, knowing how much he hates public speeches even if he’s generally pretty good with them. ‘Welcome to our Christmas party, I trust you are enjoying the celebrations tonight and from the rate the champagne is disappearing I daresay you are at least trying your best to have a good time’ there is a general tittering as people react to Cas’s opening. ‘Like every year, I do not intend to speak about our company’s successes by showing you powerpoints of revenues or graphs. No, I intend to speak about our company’s successes in terms of achievements and growth, because they are entirely due to you, all of you in this room, and the hard work you’ve put in. We have concluded a third more deals than last year – _a third,_ people. This sort of growth is unprecedented and it’s only been possible because of your dedication and your loyalty. We have won two awards, at state level and national level, for our charitable engagement with the local community and for our commitment to sustainability. We have expanded and hired thirty new employees. To all of you who are here for the first time, welcome and thank you for bringing a breath of fresh air into this company. We pride ourselves on having a mostly flat hierarchy, on knowing that you feel safe and valued enough to come to us with your ideas and your creativity. We value your opinion more than anything. And finally, I would like to thank one person in particular tonight, who turned the tides on an unfortunate situation which had been plaguing our company for more than a year now and which could have had serious consequences for us all, had it not been brilliantly averted. To you, Dean, I say thank you.’

Dean’s mouth drops open, completely taken by surprise at the sudden acknowledgement of what he’s done for the Uriel and Metatron situation. He gapes like a fish for a split second, before recovering and throwing a playful wink at Castiel, whose eyes have found him in the crowd and are now directly staring at him. It lasts for only a second, before Castiel raises his champagne glass and finishes his speech ‘Please, all of you, join me in this celebration tonight and in a toast to one of the best years for our company so far. This is to you all. Thank you. And merry Christmas.’ Scattered applause fills the room, while Castiel hands the microphone away and takes a sip of his drink. The music restarts and the noise of chatter rises once again in the room.

Suddenly Dean hears a small laugh from beside him and turns back to find Robin giggling, but with an embarrassed grimace on her beautiful face. ‘Oh man! I hadn’t realised’ Robin says.  
‘Realised what?’ Dean asks, confused, raising his voice over the sound of the music.  
She doesn’t respond but just looks back at Castiel and then at Dean with a raised eyebrow.  
‘Oh’ Dean says, suddenly catching on ‘No, no, it’s not like that!’ he protests. What’s up with people tonight thinking that he’s hooking up with Castiel?  
‘I just work with Cas, we’re good buds. I helped him with a small issue a while ago, that’s all.’  
‘Mmmh’ she makes a non-committal noise ‘that’s totally what it sounded like, from his speech’  
‘No, I…’ Dean starts, wondering how much to explain of the whole story so that she knows for a fact Cas is not into him. But speaking of the devil obviously makes him appear and suddenly Castiel is in front of them, having shaken off the rest of the Novak company and of the partygoers.  
He hadn’t realised from the steadiness of his voice during his speech and his usual eloquence, but now Dean can tell that the man is intoxicated. His pupils are blown wide and Dean can smell alcohol on his breath, even if it’s faint.  
‘Hello Dean’ Castiel says, voice warm and inviting. Dean smiles and for some reason, after avoiding the man all night, his heart decides that it’s a very good moment to start beating faster. No biggie, he’s gonna play it cool.  
‘Hey, Cas. Having fun?’  
‘Very much. Robin, how are you? You look splendid tonight.’ he says then, suddenly realising Dean wasn’t alone and relieving Robin from her awkward by-standing. ‘Thank you, Castiel. This is a great party, thank you for inviting me’  
‘Anytime, anytime’ he says, vaguely and so unlike himself. ‘May I offer the two of you a refill?’ he says, gesturing to the drinks tables, looking straight at Dean.  
Before Dean can reply Robin shakes her head ‘Oh, no thank you Castiel. I was just about to head to the ladies, if you’ll excuse me’ and she disappears, turning on her heels. Dean barely notices, too engrossed in the way Cas is staring at him.  
Cas sways a little bit closer and Dean can tell he must be really quite drunk. That interaction was abysmal, especially for someone who’s as smooth as Cas normally is. After a few more seconds of staring Dean decides to interrupt.  
  
‘Cas, not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that... I got laid.’ Dean laughs, trying to break the weird tension. It doesn’t work, if anything Castiel steps a little bit closer. Dean’s torn between being very, _very,_ into it and concerned about the fact that they’re in public, in the middle of a room full of co-workers, clients and a bunch of Novaks. He can smell Castiel’s scent and learns forward, hungry for more. He only caught tantalising whiffs of it tonight since he kept himself away from Cas and he’s not used to being deprived of it for so long. He needs his fill. Time stops. The two of them are breathing the same air now, standing still, muscles locked, neither of them willing or able to make any sort of move. Dean swallows, feeling hot all of a sudden and either very anxious or very excited. As the seconds pass, he realises with some horror that his dick is starting to chub up. Excited it is, then. He manages to remember that he’s wearing a suit which will do absolutely _nothing_ to hide the state he’s in, so he forcibly drags himself back, clearing his throat and trying to catch a breath of fresh air which will help with the state of arousal he’s in after a few mere seconds of being close to Castiel. How can this man have this sort of influence on him? The spell hasn’t been broken by his movement, though. The scent of turned on alpha floats between them in the air.  
They’re past the point of pretending now. It would just be an insult to everyone’s intelligence to feign innocence and playing it like they don’t know what they’re doing.  
‘Cas…’ Dean whispers, watching the effect of his voice on Castiel ‘We can’t…’ he adds, sounding odd even to his own ears ‘Your mother’s watching’.  
That seems to get to Castiel. He draws back, finally breaking eye contact, but then Dean licks his lips and he watches Castiel’s eyes shoot down to track the movement.

‘I’ll come find you later’ he growls, voice low, and Dean just nods, fighting a shudder. Fuck, he’s so so fucked. He should listen to Meg’s advice, he should step away now before he does something stupid.  
Dean spends the next two hours at the party doing his best not to panic and trying to decide what to do. It’s been months of subtle touches, of secret eye fucking, of Dean scenting Castiel as much as possible, of them sharing drinks at Castiel’s house, of Castiel finding it increasingly hard to control himself while he works, sometimes just opting to fuck right into Dean’s throat and pretending the frequency with which they’ve been doing that lately is normal. Dean wants nothing more than grab the man and throw him on a bed to have his way with him. Hell, even a fucking closet will do, as long as he can finally put his hands all over Cas. The problem is that Dean can’t let himself have what he wants. If he crosses that line, that’s it, he’s fired. There’s no way he can let Cas discover he’s an alpha while they have sex for the first time and hope he’ll still have a job the morning after. He needs to tell him, and he needs to tell him sooner rather than later. But tonight’s not the night, not with Dean being as tipsy as he is and not with Castiel being well on his way to drunk as well.

Convincing an intoxicated horny mind to just _go home_ instead of making stupid decision is hard. Dean forces himself to leave using all the self-control he possesses and even then, it’s a hell of a hard decision. He tells himself he’ll just go to the bathroom first and then decide. When he’s out of the room, out of Cas’s line of sight, he relaxes minutely breathing in the fresh air and trying to calm his heartbeat. He can do this. He washes his hands carefully and thinks of how to make his way home. He’s in no state to drive the Impala and while he has a comfortable room upstairs precisely for occasions such as this, he knows his self-control will fly right out of the window the second the party is over, knowing that Castiel is somewhere in a bed in the same house he is. So the only chance he has is to head out and hope to share a ride into town with someone else going the same way.

He leaves the bathroom and turns a left in the corridor, determined to make it for the exit, when suddenly strong hands shoot out of the darkness and grab his arm. He yelps (it’s a manly yelp) as he gets dragged backwards and then pushed against the wall. He knows who it is before he sees him, from the intoxicating scent of aroused alpha.  
‘Dean’ it’s a whisper, let out with a rough low voice which goes straight to Dean’s dick. And ah _fuck_ , how is he meant to resist? Cas’s face is so close Dean can feel his breath on his lips. ‘Cas’ he responds. They are still for two seconds and then all bets are off. Cas’s mouth is suddenly on his, hot and demanding as the alpha kisses him hard, pushing him against the wall in the dark. Dean moans and angles his head, slotting their lips together and _oh god,_ it’s even better like this, hotter, wetter. His hands have a mind of their own and they move to grip Castiel’s hips, feeling the sharp hipbones beneath his shirt, the taught muscles of his back rippling under his hands. Dean’s been dying to touch Castiel for so long that he wants to memorise every single inch of his skin, every spot, every muscle, every bone. ‘God, Dean’ Castiel groans, as they separate from air.

He’s beyond sanity now, blood rushing hot into his ears as he moves his head to start kissing Castiel’s neck, nipping the tendons, leaving teasing gentle bites dangerously close to his mating gland. Castiel moans loudly, pushing his hips against Dean and how can his dick feel so new, when Dean knows it so intimately. Yet this is different, this is not work, it’s pure sex and Dean wants _more._ They rut against each other, breathing hard, trying to choke off their moans so they don’t get caught, but it’s hard to pay attention to anything else when you have a turned on alpha in your arms and between your legs. ‘Fuck, Dean, fuck’ Castiel says roughly and Dean vaguely registers that he really needs to rethink his kinks, putting ‘Castiel swearing’ at the top of the list. ‘I don’t know how this is possible but I can’t ever resist you Dean, I can never… I never get to touch you, Dean. But I have got you now’ he moans, hands moving to grip firmly the meat of Dean’s ass.  
‘Yeah, Cas, fuck, touch me. I want to feel you, I want…’  
  
Cas bends down and returns the favour, nipping at Dean’s mating gland on his neck, erection rubbing hard against his own and hands squeezing his ass so hard it’s almost painful. Dean gasps, desperate to get off. The smell of their combined arousals is so strong and it’s the best damn scent Dean’s ever experienced. He could get off on it alone, he thinks, closing his eyes and just sniffing hard, nose pressed against Castiel’s neck. He should have noticed that something was off, but his mind was completely riding the pleasure, his hands rubbing the alpha’s dick from outside the trousers, drawing tiny mewling breaths every time he gets to the cockhead and presses harder.  
Muffled alarm bells ring at the back of his mind, as Dean licks a strip up Castiel’s neck and his eyes almost roll back into his own head at how delicious that is.  
It’s only when Cas gasps out ‘Dean, fuck, how can you smell so good? I don’t understand I never… this shouldn’t be possible _…’_ that Dean’s brain comes back online _. Brutally fast._ He tears himself away from the other alpha’s skin, gasping for air. _Shit, fuck, shit,_ Cas noticed he’s an alpha! Of course he noticed, he’s so aroused he overrode the blockers. He can smell himself and so strongly, too. What the fuck, how has Cas not panicked yet? But the other man is still grinding against him, eyes closed, whining at the disappearance of the hand that was rubbing him off _._ Dean can’t keep doing this to him.  
 _  
‘_ Cas, stop, Cas, fuck’ Dean sputters, trying to put some distance between them even if he’s the one currently held against a wall. Castiel looks at him through half lidded eyes, pupils so wide the black is engulfing the bright blue. ‘What is it, Dean?’ he asks, voice so low and warm and sexy that Dean thinks he could come in his pants just from hearing the man talk dirty to him.  
It’s with all the willpower he possesses that he forces himself to say ‘We gotta stop, Cas, we can’t’  
And the desperation in his tone must be evident because Cas is suddenly letting go and stepping back, eyes widening as clarity dawns in them gradually by the second.  
‘Oh my god, Dean.’ he says, mouth dropping open in shock ‘I’m so sorry, Dean, oh my god what was I thinking, I…’  
Dean doesn’t know the _precise_ reason Castiel’s freaking out. There’s so many possibilities at this point, it’s all fucked up. What a fucking mess he’s made. He watches as the alpha stumbles back another couple of steps. He’s so gorgeous like this. Hair mussed, shirt wrinkled, tie askew and enormous bulge in his trousers broadcasting to everyone exactly what a good time he’s been having. Except… the panicked expression is probably out of place.  
‘I should never have done that’ Castiel says, holding up his hands in a helpless apology ‘I… I should go, I can’t be here right now. Dean please forgive me.’ and just like that, he turns tail and flees, leaving a dumbstruck Dean still leaning against the wall.

_Well, fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! A little bit of inappropriate groping just to leave you with the suspense. Something's gotta give and we'll see what it is in the next chapter!! Xx love you all for your comments and kudos


	8. Forgetting and remembering and forgetting

When Dean comes to work the next day, it’s with the steadfast conviction that he’s about to get fired. No one’s at the door when he knocks before pushing it open, which might be a bad sign. Maybe Cas didn’t want any witnesses for his humiliation. Even Naomi is nowhere to be seen and she doesn't seem like the type to be knocked out by a measly hangover. He makes his way through the deserted corridors to the now-familiar office and takes a deep breath before knocking and walking in.

Castiel’s sitting at his desk as usual and for the first time Dean thinks he looks like shit. He’s got dark circles and bags under his eyes. His hair is plastered to his head, in a rather unflattering way and even if he’s wearing one of his usual suits, even that looks odd on him, like it hasn’t been pressed properly. ‘Dean’ he says, glumly ‘Please take a seat’ and he points to the chair in front of his desk.   
_Ah_ Dean thinks _so this is where I get given the slip._  
Castiel watches him sit down and pushes a full cup of fresh coffee towards him. Unusual, but ok. He looks nervous, fiddling with his pen and his tie and some papers and everything he can get his hands on. Dean just sits there quietly, unwilling to be the one to start this conversation.   
‘Dean, I have thought all night about how to apologise to you. And there’s nothing I can say which will make what I did yesterday better, I know that. After everything you’ve done for this company and for me, I treated you shamefully. I came after you and I took advantage of you and I am so ashamed of my behaviour, I don’t know how to make it up to you. I can only promise that it will never, _ever,_ happen again. If you wish to leave, I understand and I will comply to your every single request.’ Cas rumbles, voice rough but calm. He's not looking at Dean, but staring firmly at his desk, an unusual display of deference from the alpha.  
Dean is dumbstruck. What? Castiel isn’t bringing up the alpha thing? He’s upset because he thinks his attentions were unwelcome? Has he been watching a different show all these months? Unwittingly, he lets out a small incredulous laugh and the sound has Castiel look up and fix him with a hard stare.   
‘Is this funny?’ he asks and Dean doesn’t even know where to _begin_ explaining he’s got it wrong.   
  


‘Man… I suck your dick every day!’ he guffaws. Ok, maybe not the best opening for this conversation. Castiel glares at him even harder.  
‘Dean, you know better than me that what you do here is different. You provide a service, you are here with me in a professional capacity entirely, which most definitely does not include being groped’ his face twists in an ugly grimace at the word ‘by your boss at a party. After everything that’s happened with Inias and with Uriel. I am… I am not better than Uriel’ he concludes, mouth a hard line, like he’s just confessed to a murder.   
‘Listen. Normally I would agree with you. Hell, it does sound weird if you put it like that. But the fact is that I _liked_ it. I wanted it. We both know that, Cas, come on. You have not been perving on me for months waiting for the chance to strike, we’ve been moving towards this for a while, _both of us._ Those are two pretty different things. Am I wrong?’   
‘Well, I can’t say I haven’t thought about this for months…’ Cas grumbles 'but _premeditation_ hardly makes the situation any better'  
‘But I have, too!’ Dean exclaims, caution thrown to the wind. ‘You haven’t been imagining this, Cas, hell. I have to physically drag myself away from you every day. Besides… we’ve kind of done it before? In your car?’ he offers. Cas looks away at that and clears his throat loudly. ‘Yes, I am sorry, that was also so inappropriate… yes, I…’   
‘Deep breath, Cas’ Dean says, trying not to grin at seeing the alpha getting flustered because this is _so_ not the right moment.   
‘All I want to say is that I understand if you wish to terminate your employment here. I will obviously recompense you generously and provide you with a very positive reference. And I’m not trying to pay you off!’ he adds, anxiously. after a heartbeat ‘I mean, I understand if you wish to go public with this and I will accept your decision either way’ he comments, trying to keep his tone light but failing to sound detached.   
  
‘Man, if you remember well, I was the one who started it that time in the car!’ Dean complains, but Castiel seems unwavering ‘Alright, look. If you’re just looking for an excuse to let me down gently, you could have just said so, Cas. I promise I won’t come after you at home or whatever it is your previous guy did to you.’   
Castiel visibly flinches at the mention of those events and Dean feels moderately bad. But he’s also getting irritated at Castiel’s passiveness about this.   
‘I am not trying to let you down gently, Dean. I am merely apologising for being completely inappropriate and coming after you when I am so clearly in a position of power over you. Which is even more wrong due to the intimate nature of our business arrangement. So I am here prepared for your answer and you can give me no wrong one, how would you like to proceed?’   
Dean sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. None of this is going as expected ‘Listen, Cas. We’re friends, so I’m gonna speak plainly. I told you already. I wanted it. I enjoyed it. Hell, you have no idea how much I want to do it again. I just think that it might complicate everything and the waters are muddied enough without us stirring it all up with a stick. That’s why I said to stop yesterday.’

_tell him. Dean, now it’s the time, just tell him you’re an alpha, just do it, for god’s sake. An apology for an apology._

‘That’s… that’s all.’   
‘Thank you Dean for being so honest with me’

_oh my god, TELL HIM NOW_

‘So do you wish to continue working for me?’   
‘Hell yeah, boss. You got me until you fire me’ Dean says, big smile on his face this time even if the nervousness is still all there. His mind is screaming at him to just come clean, after the display of trust and the apology he got from Castiel, but he shushes it forcefully.   
‘As if that’s ever going to happen’ Castiel grumbles, but his shoulders visibly relax, his posture acquiring some of its usual confidence. He smiles and takes a sip of his coffee.   
‘All right then. On your knees, Dean. Open your mouth.’

Taking Castiel’s dick into his mouth today is the hardest thing Dean’s ever done. Not because it’s still awkward around them, but because his brain is _screaming_ at him to just get him hard, suck him down, force him to knot his mouth and flood him with his come. He craves the alpha like air and now that he knows what he sounds like when he’s gripping his ass, now that he knows how his lips taste and how his stubble feels against his neck, he doesn’t know how he’ll ever get used to not knowing again.

Whatever Dean's expecting to happen after that, it doesn't. In fact, they’re almost back at square one. There’s no more invitations to come for a nightcap at Castiel’s house, there’s no more casual touches outside of work, no more inappropriate lingering stares. Hell, the man hardly ever gets hard now. Dean figures that if _that’s_ not a giveaway about the fact that Cas is not interested in him, he doesn’t know what is. Initially, they still have lunch together every day, but while they are polite and talk about all sorts of things, there is a barrier up between them now. Their prior complicity squashed down. A couple of weeks later, Castiel starts making excuses and Dean finds himself having lunch alone more and more often. After a while, he feels pathetic just hanging out in the kitchen in the hope that Cas will join him, so he starts taking his meals quickly and then hiding out in the library. The more distant Cas grows, the more his crush for the man swells and threatens to swallow Dean whole. It is painfully obvious that their flirting was just a fun distraction for Cas in the previous months and now that theirs cards had been revealed, there was no point continuing this. It's like a balloon which deflated instead of popping.

Dean goes to work everyday as usual, but his heart is not in it. He even starts looking for a different job, because something’s gotta give, but finding anything else that pays so well for such little physical effort is near impossible. To be fair, there’s a solid chance he’s going to have to look for that job anyway, if the strained atmosphere is any indication. The thing is that, while they’re drifting apart steadily, they’re no less aware of each other at all. He can now see Castiel tense up rather than relax whenever Dean gets close to him and takes his soft dick into his mouth. Every now and then Cas will tense up out of the blue, but Dean’s tricks to get him to let go don’t seem to work anymore and every time he sucks him or takes him a little bit deeper, the man seems to get even more stressed. Dean would love to know what exactly is wrong, but Cas’s scent is a true mystery. It just smells… blue.

Dean gets so wrapped up in his own misery that he begins to head to the Roadhouse straight after work to drown his sorrows and he sleeps less and less, heading home only when he knows that Sam will already be asleep. He loves his little brother, but the kid is too perceptive for his own good and he knows that if put on the spot he’ll break and confess the guilt and heartbreak which are tearing him apart. And that would require telling Sam what he’s been doing for the last year and… no. No thanks. So he generally goes home at around one and then stays up to cook Sam’s lunch and dinner for the next day and then waits for them too cool down so that he can store them in the fridge. If he’s getting 4 hours of sleep a night, he can count himself lucky. Ellen and Jo eye him warily and try to get him to talk, but of course nothing work. Dean’s way too stubborn for that. It’s easy to ignore the outside world when you’ve got a pair of blue eyes scorched in your brain distracting you from everything else. He thinks about Cas so much that it’s almost obsessive. He craves him even more, craves the way Cas used to make Dean feel valued and worthy. But the weird thing is that when he goes to work, the Castiel that he services is not the same Cas he thinks about so much. It’s not the same man, not this Castiel who’s so rigid and stiff, formal and polite, but a near stranger by now.

This pattern continues for a good three more weeks until one morning, mid-March, a half-hungover half-sleep deprived Dean drags himself out of his bedroom, which smells so much like pining alpha it’s making him choke. Not that this is what it is, of course. Pining is a very specific biological reaction, Dean knows that, he isn’t stupid. But god if that’s worse than what Dean is feeling right now he really can’t imagine how people survive it. He opens the fridge to check what’s left for breakfast and notices that both Sam’s lunch sandwich and his casserole from the day before are left untouched. How did he not notice last night, before cooking a whole fresh batch of chicken? He feels a pang of shame as he realises that he was probably too drunk and didn’t even check. He better put it in the freezer, then, lest it spoils and it’s money and food wasted. He looks at his watch and Sam must already be on his way to school, Dean is running slightly late. Maybe Sam ate out last night? He shakes his head, he really hopes Sam didn’t sneak around with alcohol and that’s the reason why he forgot his lunch. He’s still way too young to turn into Dean (or their old man).

He takes a quick shower before getting into the Impala and drives to Castiel’s work mansion, all thoughts of Sam’s sandwich forgotten.   
Mid-morning finds Dean sitting sideways underneath Castiel’s desk, this time he’s so exhausted that he thinks he’s probably going to doze off. There have been no meetings, no phone calls, no music, no noises except the steady clack-clack-clack of Cas’s keyboard and Dean’s only human. It wouldn’t be the first time it happens, anyway, so he assumes Castiel won’t mind. He’s basically already unconscious when a loud shrill ringtone drags him away from the warm clutches of sleep. It rings for a few seconds, from somewhere in the room, before there’s a hand in his hair ‘Dean’ Castiel calls him, gently. ‘I think that’s your phone’   
Dean pops off, confused, his brain taking a bit longer than usual to compute the new information.   
‘What? My phone’s on silent’   
And then he remembers that, yes, it’s on silent, but not for any calls that come from Sam or from his school. Which means, this must be urgent.   
‘Oh, Cas, I’m sorry, I think it’s probably Sam. I should…’ and he gestures, scrambling to stand up.   
‘By all means’ Cas says, a hand gesture inviting him to go answer.   
Dean rushes to grab his phone from his jacket and, yep, it’s Sam’s school. He briefly wonders if the kid’s sick as he clicks on the answer button.

‘Hello?’  
‘Mr Winchester?’  
‘That’s me. What’s going on? Is Sam ok?’  
The person on the other side takes a short intake of breath ‘Mr Winchester, I am sorry that it has come to this, but as we have already discussed before Christmas, your brother Sam has reached the maximum limit of absences. Now, we would normally be lenient for reasons such as medical needs or family issues, but since we weren’t informed of any special circumstances, it’s with deep regret that I need to inform you that we’ll have to take serious disciplinary action. Sam will be suspended for the rest of the week and then we will need both of you to come in on Monday afternoon so that Sam can face a panel. It will be his only chance to apologise and explain his behaviour to the school board, after which he will either be failed for the year or allowed to get extra credit by taking supplementary courses and making up for the lost hours.’  
  
She falls silent, clearly expecting a response, but Dean is still scrambling to make sense of what the lady on the phone is telling him. This monologue was way too long for his addled brain to take in at once.  
‘Mr Winchester? Are you still there?’   
‘Wait, wait a second’ he says ‘Are you saying that Sam’s not at school right now?’  
There’s a brief pause, before the woman says ‘Well, no. That’s why I’m calling’ she repeats, tone clearly implying she thinks he’s being stupid ‘You weren’t aware that Sam isn’t here?’ and he can just _feel_ the judgement.   
‘Well of frigging course I wasn’t aware of it!’ he near yells ‘Do you think I’d just let my brother flunk school for no reason?’   
‘Mr Winchester, Sam wasn’t at school yesterday either.’   
A chill descends onto Dean and he feels like every single bone has been frozen.   
‘What?’   
‘This is the second day in a row that your brother misses school without a good reason.’ She repeats, slowly, like Dean’s truly mentally challenged.   
And just like that Dean suddenly can’t give two fucks about school or flunked years or grades or whatever the fuck. The only thing he can focus on is that Sam is not at school. And he’s not at home. And he hasn’t been for two days. Sam is missing.

He barely registers Castiel’s steady presence next to him as he hangs up on the woman and pushes more phone buttons with clammy hands. He calls and he calls and every time it goes straight to voicemail, Sam’s phone is off.   
‘Dean, Dean please calm down. I know you’re freaking out, but you need to focus right now’ the words reach Dean like he’s underwater, his ears are ringing and his chest is heaving. He doesn’t know how it happens but he finds himself on the floor, gasping for air. ‘Breathe with me, Dean. Focus on my breathing. Keep a hand on my chest, like this, yes. In, and out. In, and out’   
It takes a few minutes before his neural functions come back online and he finds himself slumped on the floor, held up by Castiel and resting against his chest. He can smell a lingering scent of alpha anxiety, but Cas is purposefully pumping out a calming scent now and he thinks that’s probably why he can think more clearly. He inhales deeply, feeling like he was just out of breath for a whole hour.

‘Are you with me?’   
Dean nods, frantically, gulping and sitting a bit more straight. ‘Sammy’s gone. He’s gone, I don’t know…I can’t lose him too, Cas, I can’t. He’s all I’ve got, Cas, please.’ He doesn’t even know why he’s begging Castiel. It’s not like he can do anything right now, but all he wants is for him to understand, to understand what this feels like to Dean because there’s no way in hell he’s able to explain right now.   
‘You won’t lose him, Dean.’ Castiel says, alpha voice confident. ‘Let’s try and keep calm. We can call the police but they probably won’t do anything unless he’s been missing for more than 72 hours. So, when is the last time you saw him?’   
Dean tries to remember. When _was_ the last time he saw Sam? His mind comes up blank. It must have been a few days at least. How could he have been such a terrible brother? Sam’s his responsibility, he’s _his_ kid, how did he not notice that his baby Sammy was gone? He’s been so wrapped up in himself, in his stupid non-existent problems, obsessing about his unrequited feelings for Cas and his job and now he feels so sick with guilt that it’s making him nauseous. He thinks he might actually puke. He also thinks he is probably saying some of this out loud because Cas is murmuring in his head ‘You’re not a terrible brother, you’re not. Sam’s a teenager, it’s ok to be worried, but I’m sure he’s fine.’  
Cas holds him through it and they repeat the breathing exercise again. ‘I… I don’t know when I saw him last’ he murmurs, now fully ashamed because Cas will know what a terrible parent he is. What a horrible, pitiful excuse of an alpha he is. ‘Ok, let’s go through it together. Was it last night?’ Dean shakes his head. Last night he came back after midnight and he assumed that Sam was already asleep and so he just set out to make dinner without…

Wait. The food.’ Dean says, brain suddenly kick-starting. ‘I make food for him every day and today’s lunch was in the fridge, but yesterday’s was gone. That means…’ he looks up, almost looking for Cas to give him hope because he doesn’t dare feel it himself. The alpha just nods reassuringly ‘It means he was there yesterday morning. See? You’re not a bad parent Dean, just a busy one. He hasn’t been gone for days. You just missed him one evening’   
‘Still a fucking failure’ Dean says, forcefully. Cas just shakes his head but keeps quiet.   
For the next hour, Dean’s besides himself with worry but he can at least think more clearly. Castiel is there with him, helping, as they call every single person Dean can think of who knows his brother. He hears a rumbled ‘thank you, of course we will let you know’ and then Cas turns him and says ‘Ellen from the Roadhouse said that her daughter Jo spoke to him two days ago when they did homework together. She said he seemed very excited about something and she eventually got out of him that he wanted a little bit of adventure. She also said he made her promise not to tell you, but – and I quote the young lady directly – ‘if he’s stupid enough to do this to Dean then he deserves to be dragged back by his ears’. She doesn’t know where he wanted to go, but still, it looks like he left voluntarily which is a good sign.’ Cas says, tone hopeful.   
‘A GOOD SIGN?’ bellows Dean ‘You’re telling me he ran away from home and thought he couldn’t trust me with telling me where he was going and you think this is _a good sign_?’ Dean knows he probably shouldn’t be yelling at his boss, especially when said boss has been trying to help him as much as he can, but the thought ‘protect Sammy’ is so overwhelming he can’t care about anything else right now.   
‘Dean’ Cas says, placatingly ‘It’s going to be ok. He is going through a rebellious phase, but he _will_ be back. I am sure of it.’

Dean stumbles towards the armchair in front of Castiel’s desk, fight suddenly going out of him, as he crashes into it and brings his hands up to hide his face.   
‘He’s all I’ve got, Cas. He’s all I’ve got’   
Cas places a hand on his shoulder and Dean feels its warmth through his t-shirt. ‘No, Dean. You have me too. And we’ll find Sam, we’ll keep searching until we do, ok?’   
Dean nods, tearful and grateful ‘Thanks, man. I’m sorry for… I’m sorry’   
The squeeze he receives in return means ‘no need’ and the message is received loud and clear.   
After that, Cas cancels all of his afternoon appointments and he and Dean jump into the Impala, ready to go searching for Sam in all of the hangouts Dean can think about.   
They drive through the town multiple times, they explore its outskirts, they check for people in a couple of abandoned barns that Dean knows Sam has always been fascinated by, but no luck.

It’s about three hours later that Dean’s phone rings and the call is from an unknown number. The area code also looks odd, definitely not from around here. He swallows, but picks up immediately ‘yeah?’   
‘Dean?’ says Sam’s tiny voice, sounding far away.   
‘SAMMY? Oh my god, tell me you’re ok, Sammy, tell me…’ he hits the breaks and swerves to the side of the road, barely aware of Cas being jolted around in the passenger seat.   
‘I’m ok Dean, I’m ok. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry’ Sam sounds so small and apologetic that Dean’s heart clenches. His lungs release all the air they were keeping in at once and he slumps against the car seat.   
‘Oh thank god, Sam, I’m so glad you’re ok, you have no idea. What happened? Where are you?’   
‘I’m in Springfield. Uhm. Illinois.’  
‘What?’ Dean looks up, meeting Castiel’s worried and earnest look ‘that’s like, a six hours drive! How the hell did you end up there?’ He mouths ‘ _illinois_ ’ to Castiel   
It’s a long story, Dean. Look I know I don’t deserve it, I know you’re at work but… could you please, maybe ask your boss if he can let you out? To come get me? I have no money left and my phone died and I’m kinda nervous about hitchhiking’  
‘Oh, _hell no!_ ’ Dean exclaims ‘you’re not hitchhiking _anywhere,_ ya hear me? I’ll ask my boss, I have a feeling he’s gonna let me take the afternoon out’ and Cas’s mouth twitches up at the side, amused.  
‘I’m on my way, Sammy. Are you in town? Where do I find you? Can you get somewhere to charge your phone and send me your address? I’ll be there as soon as I can.’   
‘My phone’s like, properly smashed. But I am in a diner called Parkway Cafe, they are letting me use their phone and I could wait here? You’ll have to google the address though.’   
‘Alright, Sammy. Wait for me there and _don’t_ get into any more trouble, ya hear me? Get something to eat, tell them I’ll pay when I arrive. Call me again if there’s any issue, alright?’   
‘Yes, Dean. Thank you.’ he says, sounding small again, and then he hangs up.

Cas is grinning at him widely now as Dean pushes his hands through his hair and lets out a breath, relieved even if still tense. ‘What the hell is Sam doing in frigging Illinois?’  
‘Guess we’re going to find out!’ Cas replies, shrugging.  
‘We?’ Dean asks, confused   
‘Well, yes? I’m coming with you, of course’   
‘Man’ says Dean, bewildered ‘it’s minimum a six hours drive without stops. Each way! I truly appreciate what you’ve done for me today, Cas, like you have no idea. But I can’t expect you to drop everything to come with me on this rescue mission, especially now that we know Sam’s alive. We’ll be back in the middle of the night.’   
‘I can and I will’ says Cas, inflexibly ‘You’re distressed Dean, I will not let you drive alone all these hours in these conditions. The adrenaline crash itself could take a real toll on you. Besides, I am not only yours, but also my own boss so I will take time off at my leisure. So, driver swap?’ he ends his tirade by extending a hand towards the wheel ‘Ha!’ Dean exclaims ‘Yeah, no. You can come, but sorry buddy, no one gets to drive Baby but me. Lady likes a delicate touch.’   
Cas retreats his hand and grumbles under his breath ‘I can have a _very_ delicate touch, thank you’ but acquiesces as Dean pulls into the road again and then they’re off.   
Dean won’t say it, but as they turn the music up and head off on the interstate, he’s so grateful that Cas is with him. Panic mostly gone, this mission now has an edge of an impromptu roadtrip and that’s enough to make Dean relax, grins coming more easily now. Especially with AC/DC blaring loudly in the enclosed space.

They drive in comfortable silence for a while, and the distance which has been growing between them in these past months feels like a distant memory after the emotional roller coaster they’ve endured together today. When they start talking, the words come easily and the jokes too. It’s not flirty, it’s not perfect, but it’s a damn good step forward – Dean thinks. He’s missed Cas so damn much.  
  


The scent blockers he has forgotten to reapply due to the general confusion sit tightly on his bathroom counter.  
  



	9. Dean's airport moment

They’re almost four hours in when Dean catches a whiff of his own scent but he doesn’t pay attention to it, it doesn’t even register. Castiel is telling him a story about a prank that Gabriel has pulled on Michael when they were at boarding school and Dean is trying to stop laughing so hard so that he can actually see where he’s going and not crash the car.  
‘…and then, _then!_ He walks back out like nothing happened and he says…’ Cas stops talking, almost choking on his own words and Dean’s still trying to catch his breath that he doesn’t immediately register. ‘Dean?’  
‘He says Dean? Cas, man, you lost me.’ he guffaws but Cas is silent, oddly so. He’s not laughing anymore, he’s not making any noise at all. Dean sneaks a glance with the corner of his eye.

‘Cas, you alright?’ The man is rigid, stiff, eyes wide, staring at the side of Dean’s face. He’s gripping his own thighs with his hands so hard that the knuckles have almost turned white.  
Then he drags in a breath noisily, through his nose.  
It takes Dean a split second before he realises what’s happening. He can smell himself. _Fuck, he can smell himself!_ And it’s not just a thin thread in the air. His own alpha scent is filling the car, morning blockers having run their course and there’s no chance that Cas hasn’t noticed, not with that reaction and with the confined space they’re sharing.

Dean doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t dare to say anything. Cas keeps taking long drags of air in through his nose and Dean watches as his pupils dilate visibly, black expanding and swallowing most of the blue. He really just hopes Cas isn’t about to wolf out and attack him, out of sheer surprise.  
‘Dean I don’t… I didn’t…’  
Dean clenches his jaw and stares resolutely at the road ahead. His mind is utterly blank.  
‘So I didn’t dream it’ Cas whispers after a few seconds of tense silence ‘The night of the party. I thought I smelled something, but I kept telling myself it was impossible, that I was just too drunk. You’re an omega.’  
Dean smiles bitterly, still not meeting Cas’s eye ‘Try again’  
His heart is racing a million miles a minute, he’s anxious and ashamed, but he still has to tamp down that part of his alpha brain which is literally _rolling_ in their combined scents filling the car. He can taste them on his tongue, the most intoxicating combination and…  
  
‘You’ve been lying to me this whole time?’ Cas whispers again, tone rising at the end of the sentence.  
‘I haven’t been lying.’ Dean says, defensive, but still not daring to raise his voice to more a mere murmur.  
'Not… really’  
‘Not really?’ Castiel’s assertive alpha voice is back in full force now, a growly rumble that makes Dean vibrate even more than the purr of the Impala.  
‘You’ve been working with me for _a year,_ Dean, as my omega assistant. A year. And you never thought you’d mention that you’re actually an alpha?’  
‘I never lied and said to be an omega, not once!’ Dean protests ‘No one ever bothered to ask. I just… never said anything.’ He has been dreading this moment since literally day one, thought so many times about coming clean and now… now Dean can’t bring himself to apologise properly, to roll over and bare his neck to Castiel.  
Why is he doing this? But he was caught unprepared and now he’s scrambling. Like somehow apologising will make him look even more guilty, will make this even worse.  
  
‘That equates to lying, in my book, Dean. It’s lying by omission. Do not insult my intelligence.’ Cas snaps.  
‘Look, I did what the job description said and I applied like everyone else. You think it’s easy for an alpha to be at another alpha’s feet and to suck his dick every day? But I didn’t hear you complaining! I did what I had to do, my personal presentation is no one’s business but mine.’ Dean adds, somewhat petulantly.  
Castiel is enraged now, scent turning hot in his fury, metallic on Dean’s tongue. He isn’t yelling though, he’s speaking in low, forceful but clear words and slowly, like he just _knows_ he can command attention even without raising his voice. Just like when he argues with his most reviled clients on the phone.  
‘Oh, is that how you want to play it, then? Implying that I am the one discriminating against you? And if you feel so blameless as you say, what is with the constant, complete scent blocking? I even bought into the lies you told my mother at your interview. I even thought you must have been a very private omega, wanting to keep the line between private and professional neatly drawn. You’ve had access to the most intimate side of me, for _a year!_ ’ he laughs, but there’s no amusement there ‘What a fool I have been. Again. _Fuck, again._ ’ He exclaims and the pain and bitterness in these few words is so strong that Dean just wants to throw himself at the alpha’s feet and beg for forgiveness, tell him that it’s not Castiel’s fault that he’s a rotten liar and a coward, too.  
  
Before he can gather his thoughts, Cas speaks again, curtly.  
‘Pull over, Dean’  
‘What?’  
‘Pull over. There’s a motel over there, just pull over there. _Do it._ ’ Dean shouldn’t feel compelled to obey another alpha’s voice, but he finds himself powerless and he slows down and turns the Impala into the parking lot of the motel.  
Castiel has removed his seatbelt and he’s out of the car in a flash. He doesn’t pace, but he turns his back to Dean and lets his head hang low.  
‘Cas…’ Dean whispers. This is not how he wanted today to go, not at all. This is not how he wanted Cas to find out.

‘We kissed, Dean!’ Cas says, brokenly, finally turning to face him and finally raising his voice, losing control over it. ‘We kissed and I even... touched you, intimately. We talked and we hung out, we were… friends. Or so I believed. You’ve been to my house so many times and I… I trusted you Dean, and I liked you more than I’ve liked anyone in a really long time even though I knew I shouldn't because you were an employee, you were under my care. How is this possible? How could it all be fake?’  
Castiel’s voice breaks and so does Dean’s heart, watching the man put his face into his hands, out of control and in despair. All of the things Cas is listing were some of Dean's happiest memories from the past year and now Cas is making them sound so dirty, so soiled. Each one of them a proof of betrayal, rather than a proof of... what? _love?_ Dean watches him dejectedly, not knowing what to say, sad alpha smells curling up in the air, tangled together again but this time creating an acrid stench instead of a delicious one.  
  
‘I need to go’ Castiel says, suddenly.  
‘Cas, wait.’ Dean says, anxious ‘Wait, please, this isn’t how it is. I mean, yes, you're right' he admits 'I was hiding it from you on purpose, but I just want to explain...’  
Cas just laughs bitterly ‘Ah, there it is. There’s nothing else to explain, really. Whatever you could say right now would only serve the purpose of making _you_ feel better and you'll excuse me if I'm not inclined to indulge you even further right now. If you’ll do me the courtesy of dealing directly with Naomi for termination of your employment, I would appreciate that.’ Businesslike, cold, his emotions shut behind a wall in the blink of an eye. ‘And just to be clear. I am not firing you because you’re an alpha. I am firing you because you deceived me, betrayed me and lied to me. Professionally _and_ personally.’  
Dean’s mind reels.  
‘Wait, Cas, please. I’m not going to just leave you here, _fuck._ How are you going to get home, we’re hours away, please just let me drive you back and then I can…’  
‘I appreciate your concern. I will have Samandriel drive out to pick me up.’  
‘We’re like, four hours out, man, I can’t-’  
‘You can and you will. You’re sorely mistaken if you think I’m getting in that car with you again. Go take care of your brother, he needs you. Goodbye Dean.’ and then just like that he turns around and walks right towards the motel lobby, not looking back.  
Dean stays for a few moments next to the Impala, hand on the hot metal. Parts of him wants to run after Cas, force him to listen to his excuses, make him come back with him, in the futile hope that if he could _just explain,_ then everything will be alright. But he’s crossed too many boundaries already and Sam is waiting and Castiel obviously never wants to see him again. What could he even say at this point, anyway? Cas is right, he wants to make himself feel better, he needs to have Castiel's forgiveness. But he doesn't think he deserves it.  
So he does what he’s been told to do, he gets into the Impala and turns her around, heading out of the motel parking lot. For once, the rumbling noise of the engine does not provide comfort.

*

Dean drives the remaining two hours in one hour and a half, tops. He just wants this crapfest of a day to be over. When he thought about the way this conversation would go down with Cas, this isn’t what he had pictured. He had two main scenarios in his head. The first was from _before_ the Christmas party and the ensuing months of cold shoulder. He had imagined finally coming clean to Cas and Cas just telling him that he didn’t really care, as long as he did his job well. He imagined that Cas had gotten so used to him that his presentation would become their dirty little secret, something which would bring them even closer together. He fantasised about Castiel actually having smelled him before, on that first day, and about Cas finding his scent as enticing as Dean found Castiel’s. He only ever allowed himself this fantasy when he was feeling particularly good about the two of them, like late on Thursday evenings, as he was driving back from Castiel’s place after an evening of jazz and blues and scotch.

The second scenario was less pleasant. It resulted in Dean being fired, but Castiel still caring about him enough to keep their friendship going, maybe hang out more like equals. But even in this scenario, Dean was never just discovered, he was always the one telling Castiel his secret in the first place. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything, but Dean can’t stop thinking that maybe Cas would have felt less like he had betrayed his trust quite so completely. It all went to shit just because Dean was a coward.

He gets to the Parkway cafe faster than he would have dared hope. He parks the impala and dashes in, pushing Castiel forcefully out of his mind and letting out a big sigh of relief when he spots Sam sitting in a booth with a book in hand and an empty plate in front of him.  
‘Sammy!’  
‘Dean!’ Sam exclaims, looking up, before throwing himself in his arms.  
‘Sam, god, what happened? I’m so glad you’re all in one piece’ he says, running his hands up and down his little brother’s arms.  
Just like that, Sam’s eyes fill with tears and Dean is smacked in the face by a full puppy eyes attack.  
‘I’m so sorry, Dean. I was an idiot’  
‘Well, that’s nothing new’ he says, trying to joke enough that Sam will feel comforted. He pumps out as many familiar calming pheromones as he can, even though he knows Sam will only partially be able to pick up on it.  
They huddle in a booth, too relieved to be together again to bear sitting across the table from each other. His little pup brother is safe, _god,_ what a scare. He puts his arm around his shoulders and plans on keeping it there for a long time. He just needs to know, to feel, that Sammy is ok.

‘Care to tell me why you ran away?’ Dean tries to deliver the line without an accusatory tone, but the pure hurt he's feeling must be evident anyway, because Sam looks up at him with big eyes.  
‘I didn’t _run away_ , Dean, I promise. Is that what you thought? This wasn’t to get away from you or from home, I swear. I just… wanted to do something cool.’ This makes absolutely no sense to Dean.  
‘Something cool? What the heck is there to do that is cool in nowhere, Illinois?’  
‘We were actually going to Chicago’ Sam mumbles, looking down ‘I just… stopped earlier’  
‘Who’s _we_?’  
Sam takes a deep breath and Dean can tell this is difficult for him, but right now he doesn’t give a damn, he just wants to know why the hell is little brother has been gone for two days.  
‘Me and Ruby and the others… you know, my friends. I told you about them.’  
‘No you haven’t! The only thing I know is that you started skipping school together. And that’s just because school called me to ask where the hell you where’  
‘Oh shit’ Sam whispers ‘Do you think I’ll be expelled?’  
Dean purses his lips ‘A bit late to think about that, isn’t it? You have a hearing of some sort on Monday. If you can convince them to let this go…’  
‘Shit, shit, shit’ Sam mumbles ‘I didn’t mean to… Ruby and the others thought it’d be cool to go on an adventure, a trip to Chicago. A couple of the guys have presented recently and they wanted to celebrate.’  
Wow this sounds… well, it sounds just like something Dean would have done. Except he’d never do it without telling his brother!  
  
‘And you didn’t think of telling me because…’  
Sam shrugs, looking guilty ‘I mean, I hardly ever see you anymore and’ he raises his hands at Dean’s falling face ‘I’m not blaming you, ok? I’m just saying that it’s not the same as it used to be. I feel like you wouldn’t care if I told you this stuff’  
And _wow,_ low blow Sammy. If Dean weren’t already rolling around in a cesspool of guilt today, this would be the final push that lands him in one. He doesn’t answer, looking down, probably reeking of guilty alpha but he can’t bring himself to care.  
‘Dean, I mean it. This isn’t your fault, I’m just explaining, I was an idiot…’  
‘Yeah, alright Sammy’ Dean says, roughly, trying not to shed tears ‘I’m a crappy parent, can we move past this please? Because I don’t think I can take it today.’  
‘Dean, listen to me’  
‘MOVE. PAST. Sammy. Thank you. Continue your story’ Dean bellows, vaguely aware of a couple of people in a nearby booth throwing anxious glances at him.  
Sam looks like he swallowed a lemon, but he doesn’t argue.  
  
‘Well, Azazel was driving because he’s a bit older and he has his own car. And last night we stopped at a motel near here and there was a bunch of older guys, mostly alphas, who really wanted to take us partying somewhere’  
Dean looks horrified and disgusted ‘A bunch of older alphas wanted to take some _teenagers_ partying with them? What the fuck?’  
‘Yeah and I said no, also because they were handing out a bunch of pills and I don’t know, Ruby kept telling me that it was fine, but I was too scared to…’  
‘You mean too smart, right?’ Dean interrupts ‘Too smart to accept drugs from some random alphas that picked some kids up at a shady motel?’  
Sam just nods, shoulders slumped.  
‘Well, they all went out and I stayed back on my own. My phone battery was dead by then, so I didn’t really know what was happening. They came back at like five or six and they were _wasted,_ Dean. Like, I’ve never seen my friends like that. They smashed the motel room, the two new alpha guys were so off their heads that they started throwing stuff around until we literally got the police called on us. We ran away, but while we were in the car Azazel started screaming some shit and then I realised he was still super high and he was driving like… we were going to crash, Dean, I was so sure. We weren’t going to make it to Chicago like that. You should have seen him, Dean.’  
Dean is tense like a bow, terrified and relieved in equal measure that Sam went through that but also that he’s fine and safe and sitting in front of him.  
‘So I told him to stop that he couldn’t drive like that and, I don’t know, I set him off. We stopped and he dragged me out of the car and started yelling at me that I kept ruining everything and I was sure going to present like a sissy omega and I was pathetic and boring and that they were only keeping me around as a joke but that it was no longer funny and that I could finally go fuck myself and leave them alone. I told him that he was high and an idiot so he took my phone and smashed it with his boot. Then he said that since I was so responsible and mature, I could find my way home by myself. Ruby tried to stop him, I think, but then they drove away and left me here. So, yeah’ he smiles, mortified, looking up at Dean ‘not quite the big adventure I was hoping for, I just made an embarrassment out of myself’  
Dean just hugs him, hard, for a few seconds.  
‘Maybe I’m not the complete failure as a parent I thought I was. I’m proud of you Sammy for getting out of that situation. You did the right thing.’ Dean says, pushing his brother’s long hair out of his face ‘I’m not saying that running away like that was smart. But at least there are limits to your stupidity, let’s put it like that’ and he grins, trying to convey his relief. ‘Don’t ever do that again. Ya hear me?’  
‘I promise’

It takes another ten minutes before they can finally breathe normally, but when they finally do, it becomes clear that this will be just a story. That nothing really bad happened, that it’s all fixable. Sam promises he’ll stay away from these people for good and Dean believes him. He probably learnt his lesson. This is going to sting for a while.

‘So your boss gave you the day off to come pick me up? I hope you didn’t get in trouble because of me?’ Sam asks around a mouthful of pancakes and Dean’s face twists in a grimace so quickly that he doesn’t have the time to hide it.  
‘Dean? Oh my god, did you get fired because of me?’  
‘Wasn’t because of you’ Dean mumbles.  
‘What? So you _were_ fired?’  
‘I fucked up, Sam’ Dean admits.  
‘What happened? Dean please, tell me what happened’  
And just like that, he word-vomits everything. He tells Sam about the job ad, he tells him about going to New York and why he was really there. He tells him about Inias and Naomi and Uriel and the whole espionage mess. He tells him about his friendship with Castiel and why Dean was so often absent on random days. He tells him about the Christmas party and the way Cas rejected him, though gently, afterwards. He tells him about seeking refuge at the Roadhouse and in the bottle, trying to cope with Castiel pushing him away like that. He then tells him about coming on the journey to pick Sam up and what happened when Dean realised he forgot his blockers at home and Cas found out what he really is. He finishes the story and stares at the empty plate in front of them, feeling equally empty.

When he looks up, Sam is radiating disapproval.  
‘Are you just waiting so that it’s late enough that you need to do a dramatic dash, like in airports in the movies? Why are we here? Go catch Castiel before his driver gets there, Dean, god! Do I need to tell you everything?’  
Dean looks up ‘Are you crazy? _This_ is your response to my story? He’ll never want to speak to me again after this!’  
‘Well then, I don’t know, make him! You said this Inias guy fucked him over before, now imagine how hard it will be for him to trust anyone else after this! What if he thinks you’re like… a perv who gets off on gaslighting other alphas?’ what Sam means is obvious and both of them twist their faces in a disgusted grimace at the implications.  
‘Yeah, thank you, you’re making me feel much better Sam’ After what Inias had done to Castiel, Dean had gone and betrayed his trust in the same way. If not worse. Actually, probably worse. _Fuck,_ what an idiot he was. This was more than just a white lie, it was a complete crossing of boundaries. It was like discovering that the girl you had been chatting with online was actually a 50 year old trucker with B.O. issues and a fetish for fursuits. Especially since Dean didn’t really _explain_ anything to Castiel.

‘Dean. You’re being dense on purpose. From what you’ve told me, you really care for this guy. And not in a stalkerish way, in a ‘please make many pups with me and let’s make each other happy forever’ way. That part was real, was it not? He doesn’t deserve going on with his life thinking that you never cared for him or returned his feelings, whatever they were. You can’t let him think that you were just tricking him for money. Because, honestly, in the best circumstances this is what it sounds like right now. That you just tricked him into a friendship _and more_ under false pretenses for a year because you wanted to get some cash out of him. He needs to know the truth!’  
‘Look, Sammy, I get it, but it doesn’t matter. Because at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter if I wanted to tell him the truth every single day and how I tangled myself up in a crappy situation where there was no easy way out, the only thing that matters is what I did. The result is the same.’  
‘That’s not true, Dean and you know it. You can always forgive someone who’s been a jerk by accident, but you should never forgive someone who’s a jerk on purpose. Now the question is: is Castiel someone who recognises the difference?’

The answer is so obvious. Maybe it’s stupid, maybe it’s hopeless. But Dean drags his wallet out of his pocket, rips a few banknotes out of it, drops them off the table and dashes off for the Impala, Sam in tow.  
‘Dean, one thing?’ Sam asks, as they leave the diner parking lot.  
‘Yes?’  
‘We are going to talk about _all_ of this when we get home, ok? Including the fact that you didn’t trust me enough to let me know what job you were doing and your stupid self-sacrificing _idiocy._ Do I make myself clear?’  
Dean smiles, despite himself and his situation. Someone Sammy manages to boss him around even when he’s literally a teenage runaway.  
‘Promise. No more keeping stuff from each other, okay? It goes both ways.’  
‘It goes both ways’  
  
They drive like madmen through the deserted streets, back in the direction of the motel. Oh god it’s been so many hours, what if Castiel is already gone? Dean makes a quick calculation in his mind. He left Castiel two and a half hours ago. It will take him another hour and a half to get back there, minimum, and that makes it… four hours. Exactly the time it would take for Samandriel to drive out and pick him up. Maybe, maybe there’s a chance he’ll catch him before he goes. What if this is his last chance to make things right? He needs to at least apologise properly. He fully expects to be barred from the manor from now on, forever unable to reach Castiel.

When they pull into the motel’s parking lot, an hour and twenty-one minutes later (not that Dean’s counting), it’s with a cloud of dust and the noise of gravel under the Impala’s tires. What if it’s too late? What if Castiel’s already gone? A mere second later he sees Castiel step out of the motel lobby, clearly awaiting his ride. As if conjured up by magic, Castiel’s business car driven by the trusted Samandriel pulls into the other side of the parking lot and heads towards the entrance where Castiel is standing, staring at his driver approaching. That’s it. Dean’s airport moment.

‘Cas!’ Dean screams, jumping out of the Impala. He watches Castiel go rigid in recognition, before turning away from him and making a move to step into his own vehicle.  
‘Cas, wait, please!’ he runs towards him, as fast as he can.  
This time when Castiel turns, Dean is assaulted by a cloud of furious alpha scent.  
‘I told. You. To leave. Me. alone.’ He spells out, growling. He stomps aggressively towards his car, turning his back to Dean.  
There’s no getting through to him so Dean just takes another step forward and exclaims  
‘It wasn’t fake, ok? It wasn’t fake and I didn’t mean to… to like you.’ This makes zero sense. Cas must also think so, because he opens his mouth to growl again, rumble already audible in his chest, but Dean holds up a hand  
‘Wait, let me explain.’  
‘You keep saying that. I have no interest in listening.’ His eyes are glowing now and his scent is so metallic that Dean thinks he needs to thread very careful because Castiel smells and looks like he’s about to go into an alpha rage.

‘Look, I know you think I’m here just to get this off my chest, but you also need closure. You don’t deserve to walk around not knowing why I did what I did, I couldn’t live with you thinking me a worse man than I am. After that I will leave you alone, I will never try to contact you, I will disappear, I promise.’ and then he tilts his neck to the side, baring it to Castiel in a display of submission intended to placate the alpha. He can feel his blood thump loudly in his ears, he can’t see Cas with his eyes lowered like this, but he can track changes in his scent. When the other man doesn’t say anything but also doesn’t move, he dares to sneak a glance up. Castiel’s scent is stable, metallic and angry, but it also isn’t getting worse.  
‘Please, Cas’ he murmurs, licking his lips suddenly as dry as the desert.  
The other man stays perfectly still. Maybe this is his chance.  
‘It wasn’t fake’ he repeats, straightening but keeping an inoffensive pose, trying to make himself look as defenceless as possible.  
‘When I say that I didn’t mean to like you it’s because I thought this would be just a job. I thought I’d hate spending my time on my knees, sucking off another alpha. I’ve never done this before and I’ve never thought about doing it either. I thought it’d be emasculating and humiliating and wrong. I wasn’t expecting… you. I _like_ you Cas. Let’s leave your insanely good scent alone for a moment, because that’s not what I mean. I like you as a person, I like you as a friend. I like that you have horrendous music taste but that I could convince you to try something new with me. I like that you drink the best bourbon around but are not a snob, that you are generous and kind. I like that you’re the most captivating person I’ve ever met, you’re whip-smart, you work so hard, you never indulge in anything just because you want to. Your sense of duty and responsibility and of the importance of doing the right thing never wavers, and I respect the _hell_ out of that, Cas.’  
He stops to drag in a breath because the second word-vomit of the day is taking its toll, and Cas is just staring at him, unmoved.  
‘So I mean it when I say that none of this is fake. I have betrayed you and it’s unforgivable, I know. And I hope you will believe that this is the truth, even if you can never trust me again.’  
Castiel looks at him, a desperate forlorn look in his deep blue eyes and Dean knows, right there, that he lost him. He can’t cry, he can’t.  
  
‘So why… the lying?’ Cas asks, almost despite himself ‘Why didn’t you just tell me you were an alpha?’  
Dean rubs a hand down his face ‘Cas… I was desperate, okay? I had Sam’s future to think about and I was broke, I had just lost my job and didn’t know what to do. This job seemed perfect and I swallowed my alpha pride and thought I’d bite the bullet and go for it. My plan was to work for a while, make some money, then resign and go on my merry way. But then I had to go and _like_ you and I ruined everything because I couldn’t keep my distance. I wanted your friendship and your attention and… I betrayed you and you have every right to be disgusted by me. But I swear I didn’t do it because I’m some knot-obsessed perv. I swear to you, Cas.’ he exclaims, emphatically ‘I only did it because I thought you would be ‘just a job’ for me, until it was too late and I didn’t want to lose you by telling you the truth.’ He lets out a bitter laugh ‘I see how well that plan went’  
Castiel looks down at his shoes and his scent is still swirling dark and unpleasant. Dean feels his stomach tighten. ‘Thank you for your explanation’ he says, simply.  
And just like that, he turns around, he climbs into the waiting car and he’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys!! Your reaction to last week's chapter was overwhelming, I am so pleased to hear from so many of you in the comments! Thank you so much, that really made my week. 
> 
> About this chapter... yeah uhm. Don't hate me? Xx  
> What do yous think??


	10. Limes, knives and strawberry grandmas

If Dean thought that the period after the Christmas party had been shitty, it was nothing compared to now.   
He and Sam get back at around 3am after that delightful Illinois roadtrip and for the first time in almost a year, neither of them has an alarm to set for the morning after or a place to be. Dean is as fired as one can get and Sam is still suspended from school until Monday. It should feel great, in other circumstances they'd spin it like an impromptu holiday, but in reality it could hardly suck more.

‘Coffee?’ Sam offers when Dean drags himself to the kitchen at 11am the next morning. Dean just grunts.  
‘Have we got anything stronger?’   
Dean doesn’t need to see the kid to know that he’s throwing him a supreme bitchface.   
‘It’s not even noon Dean’   
‘Fine’ Dean snaps ‘I’ll drink the damn coffee then’   
‘Okay?’ Sam asks and no one is sure who is winning and who is losing this non-argument.

At two pm someone rings the doorbell and Dean tries, he _really_ tries not to get his hopes up and think that maybe it’s Cas who’s come to talk. When he wrenches the door open (still focused on _not_ hoping), he sees it’s Samandriel.   
‘Hey, Alfie!’ he greets the guy, trying to put some cheer on ‘What can I do for you? Did Cas send you?’ ( _not_ hoping)  
‘Hi Dean’ Alfie smiles one of those sweet and sad smiles of his ‘Naomi sent me. This is for you’ and he hands him a thick manila folder.   
‘Be well, Dean, alright? We’ll miss you’ Alfie throws him a pointed look, but luckily he doesn't say anything else.  
‘Yeah… thanks Alfie. I’ll miss you guys too. Say bye from me to the others please. Tell Meg to get into extra trouble to celebrate my departure’ he tries to joke.   
The guy just nods and disappears down the stairs.   
Dean wanders into the living room with the folder in hand and Sam looks up from The Witcher 3 playing on the screen. ‘What’s that?’   
‘I assume it’s Naomi letting me know I’m fired’   
And in fact, among the various documents in the folder (including one which reminds him he signed an NDA – as if Dean was about to go spout company secrets around, come on) is his notice of termination effective immediate and his last paycheck. He stares down at the sum and notices it’s way higher than the previous ones for the same period, but then he just shrugs and thinks it’s probably a compensation for the immediate termination. Not that he deserves it, anyway.

He throws it all on the coffee table, not ready to deal with it.   
‘Wanna kill some drowners?’   
‘Hell yeah, Sammy. Pass me the controller.’

In an ocean of shit, some things at least turn out to be ok. The school lets Sam stay, even if they pile up extra credit work on him like he’s an academic mule. The kid doesn’t complain though, he just puts his head down and works harder than he ever has before. Dean doesn't hear a peep about his ex-friends either, except for Ruby, who turns out is the only one who also manages to stay in school and even apologises to Sam. Not that this gets her into Dean's good books, but he gotta trust the kid to handle his own stuff and he suspects Sam won't be so gullible again after that little Illinois lesson. She even comes around for homework a couple of times and it looks like the two are actually studying. Weird.   
Dean doesn’t even have time to look for another job when Ellen gives him a call and tells him that Ash has decided to become a full-time programmer and so they need a waiter, if Dean’s down to come back and work for them again. He doesn’t even have enough words to show how grateful he is. (Sam also looks suspiciously innocent about the whole thing, so Dean makes him his favourite dish to silently thank him. He's sure that his job offer has _nothing_ to do with him conspiring with Ellen and Jo behind his back, of course).

So Dean is back at square one, pretty much where he was a year ago. Actually, on paper it’s even better now, because he’s got a nicely padded savings account that he definitely didn’t have before. Which doesn't explain why he feels so miserable the whole time.   
He flirts and winks his way through tips at the bar, he mostly lays off the alcohol, only doing shots when some patrons offer to buy him one (again, _tips_ ), he gets a steady income which he squirrels away for Sam. It’s not the same as when he was working for Castiel, but it’s just enough to get by. The Roadhouse is also closer to his apartment, which means he doesn’t need to take the Impala and can save the gas money. He’s sad that he doesn’t get to drive his Baby around as much as he wants to, but everyone gotta make sacrifices and the weather's getting warmer, so it's not too bad.   
And so just like this weeks go by and it's like he never left the bar. It _still_ doesn’t explain the scent of absolute misery which hangs around him all the time. He wears blockers at work, but this time it’s just so that he doesn’t scare off the patrons. Worse than that, everyone else smells _disgusting._ Dean’s never had a big problem with scents. Omega, beta, alpha women, it all smelled fairly good to him. Now the omegas are way too cloying, betas are annoying and make him sneeze, alphas just smell like pure rotting meat. Working at a bar is basically hell. And that's without mentioning his dick, which basically has gone into early retirement. Dean tries not to think about it. About any of it.

‘Cheer up, Dean! Guess who’s back from California for the weekend?’ Jo yells one evening, smacking Dean’s ass with a folded towel. Dean’s in the back looking for more limes and somehow the cursed things are nowhere to be found.  
‘Mmmh? Who?’ he asks distractedly  
‘Your favourite yoga instructor’ she winks ‘Go to the bar, I’ll get the limes’   
He heads back out and sure as hell, Lisa is at the counter, resting her chin in her hand and looking as pretty and fit as last time Dean saw her. Except, this time she also has a healthy tan and her teeth are even whiter. California, man...  
‘So I heard you’re a permanent fixture of this place now’ she smiles at Dean, eyes raking up and down his body ‘Good for Ellen, she has an eye for good décor’   
Dean rolls his eyes ‘So I heard that moving to California makes you proficient at spouting corny lines’   
‘I was proficient before, Winchester, or have you forgotten?’   
‘I could never’   
They grin at each other for a moment, pleasure of seeing each other again momentarily piercing through the veil of Dean’s manly angst. ‘What can I get for ya?’   
He can see her struggling not to say something cheesy again, before she settles with ‘Just an orange juice please’   
‘Oh, hell no! Have you gone all LA healthy crap? Can I make you a spiruthingie smoothie while we’re at it?’  
She scoffs ‘ _Spirulina._ And as if! I look like the healthiest bitch on the planet on Instagram, my kitchen cupboard tells you a different story’  
‘I knew that Ben wouldn’t stand for that’   
‘Yeah, don’t worry, he keeps me pretty grounded.’  
‘How old is he now? Must be close to four now, no?’   
‘He just turned five a month ago.’  
‘Wow, have you been gone for that long?’ Dean asks, surprised.   
‘It’s been a while since high school’ she agrees. Dean nods, a tinge of melancholy now. Dean and Lisa are the same age and had dated for the best part of high school (at least, while _she_ was still attending), but always on and off. Until she had gone and got pregnant by a thirty-year-old alpha who was just passing through town. She slept with him to make Dean jealous during one of their ‘off’ times and was left with a little permanent gift to show off just in time for prom. Dean didn’t judge her, she was a good mother, but he sort of always felt responsible for her choices. In the end, they had parted as friends, the pregnancy putting a lot of things in perspective. That didn’t mean that they couldn’t ‘reconnect’ in other ways each time she was passing through town. As a matter of fact, they almost always did.

Dean is almost fearful to get close enough to scent her. He keeps himself behind the counter and tries not to get too close. Lisa has always carried this delicious scent of strawberries around with her and Dean really doesn’t want to discover that all of a sudden she smells bad as well.   
‘So, what time do you get off?’ Lisa asks after a while, straight to the point as always ‘Unless you finally decided to settle down and get yourself the brainy omega you’ve always wanted’   
Dean scoffs ‘You were the one telling me to find myself a smart omega so that they can have enough brains for the two of us. I just want a hot one.' he grins, slipping into Dean Winchester™'s character, ignoring any feelings of it being forced because this isn't the time for introspection and chick flick-y bullshit.   
'And nah, got no one. But Sammy’s home tonight and he’s hit a bad spell in school so I don’t want to risk disturbing him with other, uhm, activities.’   
Lisa grins, tho she looks surprised ‘Sam is not doing well at school? Well then, things _really_ have changed around here. Anyway, well, I have a hotel room near my parents’ house if you’d like. They turned my bedroom into a crafts room’ she says, wrinkling her nose. 'So much yarn, so many sequins' she shudders, looking into the distance. 'Besides, Ben's sleeping with them as a _treat_ ' she smirks 'more for me than for him, but he doesn't need to know that'  
‘I get off in two hours’ Dean tells her.

Later that night, while he walks towards Lisa’s, he feels jittery and odd. It’s the first time he hasn’t jumped at the chance to get laid. Well, to be fair he did. But internally, he also hesitated and that counts, right? But then again, it’s Lisa. They _always_ do it, it would be weird not to, right? And most importantly, why wouldn’t he want to? His whole life has been in this sort of limbo for the past weeks, with the world going on around him and Dean’s sick and tired of it. Something’s gotta give. Turning down an offer for sex is unheard of.   
So by the time he knocks on the door of Room 34 he's amped himself up enough and he's ready for this. But when Lisa opens the door, Dean finally gets a full-face whiff of her scent and his stomach drops. She doesn’t smell _bad,_ per se. But she sort of smells like a grandma, sweet and fruity, unalluring and flat.   
  
She kisses him without much ado and drags him into the room. Dean undresses her with practiced moves, kisses her like he knows she likes, touches her in all the right places. So he reacts with mild surprise when she stops kissing him, lying down on the bed, and asks ‘Dean. What’s going on?’  
‘What do you mean?’   
And she pointedly looks down at Dean’s crotch. He follows her gaze, almost as if he hasn’t noticed that he was soft until she pointed it out.   
‘And what’s up with the blockers?’   
Dean sits back on the bed and sighs ‘It’s nothing, Lisa. Sorry, it’ll just take me a little to get going today. Think you can work with that?’   
She narrows his eyes at him and suddenly he’s got an armful of Lisa, pushing at his chest and pawing at him until she sticks her face right in his neck.   
‘Hey, what the hell!’ he exclaims, but she’s inhaling deep on his scent gland, clearly trying to get past the blockers.   
‘Dean.’ She says eventually, drawing back and looking at him surprised ‘I didn’t know’   
‘Didn’t know what?’  
‘Stop trying to pretend, Dean, Christ. Not with me! You’re pining.’   
Dean draws back with indignation ‘I am _not_ pining. I’m just going through a rough patch and don’t need to stink up the place. Nothing else to it’   
‘Yeah, right. So who is it? What happened, did they reject you?’   
‘No one rejected me, because there was nothing going on. Now can we drop it please?’  
‘Well, I am not having sex with you while you smell like someone killed your cat. But it’s also an absolute shame to waste the hot tub on the balcony so get to your boxers and get in, before I change my mind. Also, I have champagne’ she gets up from the bed, grabs a bottle from a cooler near the door and heads out, just barely covered by her underwear.   
Dean lets himself fall back on the bed and stares at the ceiling for a few seconds. ‘Fuck it’ he says then, takes his pants off and follows Lisa into the tub.

He missed Lisa – he concludes. He tells her that much. ‘You’re so drunk’ she laughs and splashes him with a bit of water.   
‘’m not. I’ll have you know I handle my liquor better than you’   
‘Whisky maybe. This is bubbly wine, it’ll go right to your pretty head’ she taps her finger against his temple and he pouts. Manfully.   
She’s right, Dean thinks, smiling wide for the first time in weeks. Not that he thinks about that.   
‘So who is it that broke your heart? Do I need to pay them a visit?’ she asks after a bit, when they're both mellow and relaxed from the wine and the hot water and the crisp night air.  
He grows serious, but drunk serious is never a good idea and even a sparkling wine amateur like him knows that. ‘No one. He doesn’t want me. It’s fine, I messed it up.’   
‘You messed it up with me so many times. But _this_ has never happened before’   
‘You gestured at the whole of me!’ he says, cross.   
‘Yeah. Who broke Dean Winchester? He must be a hell of an omega to have this effect on you. Or is it a beta?’  
‘You’re not going to drop it, are you?’ he sighs, not as annoyed as he'd like to be.  
‘Nope’ she says, drawing out the _p_ until it makes a popping sound. Were he sober, he’s steadfastly refuse to utter a single word about this whole mess. But sparkling wine can make a man spill all of his secrets, it is known. Especially if a hot tub and an ex girlfriend are involved. Truth be told, he’s been dying to talk about it, but there was no one there whom he would like an opinion from, not really.  
  
‘He’s an alpha’ he murmurs, quietly, looking down at his hands which are pruning already.   
Lisa whistles ‘Wow. Never knew you had it in you’ she says. But then after a seconds she adds ‘Actually no, that’s not quite true. I don’t know why I’m so surprised, you always liked being manhandled. And remember that one time, when I made you try my…’   
‘Yeah, thanks Lisa, I remember, thank you.' he interrupts loudly 'Also these are all stereotypes, ya know.’ He mutters ‘I never actually found a male alpha attractive before’   
She sips at her wine, thoughtful ‘Is that what happened? You freaked out because you weren’t expecting it?’   
‘No. I mean, you’d think so, right? I was pretty surprised at the beginning but you know what? Nah, no freakouts. Not even a tiny one.’   
‘So what went wrong? You’re clearly irresistible so no chance he turned you down because he didn’t like you, which is what happens to the rest of us normal people’ she pokes at his chest and he swats her hand away, jokingly.  
‘Stop trying to suck up to me to make me feel better. Won’t work’   
‘If you say so’   
Dean snorts ‘Nah. I fucked up because I pretended I wasn’t an alpha. For a year, actually.’   
This time, the whistle she lets out is low and heavy ‘Wow, Dean. Why did you do that? And how did he not notice?’   
‘We weren’t… doing anything, you know. I mean, we did, a couple of times. But mostly we were just working together. And I was very careful with my blockers. Except we became friends and went through some shit together and in the end he felt like I betrayed him when he found out’   
‘I mean… it’s pretty understandable’ Lisa comments, gently.  
‘Yeah, I know. ‘s all my fault’   
They’re quiet for a minute, both of them lost in their own thoughts.   
‘You know what? This was much more fun when we were talking about _your_ sexscapades. So please let’s go back to talking about that’   
Lisa makes a bitchface which could rival Sam’s ‘If you use the word sexscapades ever again you’ll never hear a single word from me’ but then she relents and launches herself in a tale regarding a beta guy called Chad who only had one ball and didn’t know until Lisa pointed it out and so Dean is happily distracted.

He ends up sleeping over at Lisa’s after sending a text to Sam letting him know where he’s gone. It’s part of their new ‘honesty’ policy after all. In the morning they get coffee delivered to the room before Lisa has to head out to go visit her parents and collect her son.   
‘You know, Dean. I think if he really likes you, he’ll give you a second chance. You fucked up, but you deserve one.’ She says as they’re parting ways. ‘And if he doesn’t and you need a sexescape, a _sexcape?_ , to California you know where to find me’ she winks at him and he laughs, the first full belly laugh he’s had in such a long time.   
‘You got it Lis. You were always the best.’  
‘I know. Too good for you’ she says, flippantly and with one final wide grin, she turns around and leaves.   
Thank god for old friends, Dean thinks.

Lisa provided a bit of reprieve. It doesn’t really make Dean feel any better about his situation, but at least it’s like someone gave him a mouthful of oxygen and reminded him that there was still air out there and that he could breathe it again one day. He just doesn’t know when.   
So his life continues. Weeks pass. Sam gets excellent grades at school, Dean starts taking short shifts at a local garage in the mornings when the Roadhouse is closed so that he can make some more money. Suddenly it’s three months since he got fired from the manor. He isn’t happy, but he also feels like he’s not in mourning anymore. He tries to take his blockers off one evening, but a pointed look from Ellen tells him that it’s way too soon and so he still douses himself before going to work. Everything is as regular and mundane and pointless and boring as can be.   
Until one warm Thursday evening, when something finally changes.

Dean walks into the Roadhouse a few minutes late for his shift and throws the door open on his way in, yelling  
‘Howdy you bunch of rotten losers, didja miss me?’   
he doesn’t even look around, just hears the grunts of the regulars who acknowledge the arrival of their favourite bartender (he remembers _everyone_ ’s orders, no exceptions). Moving with ease in the familiar space, he grabs an apron, ties it around his waist, then flips a knife up in the air, grabbing it with his hand behind his back and sets to chop limes, his favourite activity. When he’s done, he launches them across the space behind the counter until they all drop perfectly into their container, a good three meters away. He picks up the knife and throws it at the corkboard in the back, where it lodges itself perfectly. He is sure glad he doesn’t work in a classier establishment (or one which concerns itself with health and safety).  
  
‘Score! Dean Winchester still got it, ladies and gentlemen. Alright, gorgeous, what can I get ya’ he asks without missing a beat, turning towards the woman he noticed sitting at the counter with the corner of his eye.   
It’s only when he’s fully facing her that Dean balks and then stops, mouth open, frozen in place. Perched on one of the Roadhouse stools, hair tightly wrapped in a bun at the top of her head, pearl necklace around her neck is Naomi Novak. Offering a hell of an incongruous sight to anybody with eyes.   
‘Naomi?’  
‘Hello Dean’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright frens! I am posting a day early because I thought I had to make it up to you for how short this chapter is. Of course, it ends on a cliffhanger because I know how much you guys loooove them.   
> Also I had extra time during Easter weekend to do some editing and I've decided to completely rewrite the last chapter so now I'm deep in writing mode again. Also considering a timestamp, but we'll see. I can't believe how close we're getting to the end, seriously.   
> Thank you so much for following this story and for letting me know so very graciously what you think of it, it makes my whole week and I'm not even exaggerating!   
> Love you all <3


	11. Rose bushes and (unpaid) moscow mules

‘Naomi?’  
‘Hello Dean.’ says the Novak matriarch ‘You always provide this kind of show to your clientele, or am I special?’ she asks, eyeing the knife which is still swaying slightly from where Dean lodged it in the corkboard with a precise throw.   
Dean sputters ‘I don’t… Uhm... Can I get you a drink?’ He asks, quickly. This, he knows how to do.   
She looks around, clearly not accustomed to places like the Roadhouse and what they might offer.   
‘I can get you a Moscow mule if you’d like. Fanciest thing we do here I’m afraid’   
‘That will do, thank you Dean’   
He gets to work, thankful for having something to do and an excuse to turn his back to her for a minute. She caught him completely by surprise and he is racking his brain trying to figure out what the hell she’s doing here, but nothing good comes up. Did he forget to return something? If anything, he probably left some stuff behind. Did he accidentally break the NDA? No, impossible, he hasn’t talked to anyone about the whole mess except Lisa and even then, there were no details. Is this where Castiel’s mother decides to beat him up for lying to her son? Possible. Probable. But she wouldn’t dirty her own hands with that and, as far as he can tell, she’s here alone.

‘Here you go’ he pushes the drink towards her, a bit wary now.   
‘Mmmh. Acceptable’ she says, after taking a sip. It’s basically high praise.   
Dean fidgets. He doesn’t really want to ask why she’s here even if he’s dying to know, so he just waits, busying himself by towelling dry a couple of glasses, like in westerns, except his rag is clean.  
‘Dean, can you imagine why I am here?’ she asks, at last.   
‘Ain’t got a clue, ma’am’ he responds, honestly.   
‘No?’ she seems mildly amused ‘Why don’t we start with you then. How have you been in these last few months?’   
‘Fine’  
An arched eyebrow is all the response he gets.   
‘Let’s try that again’  
‘Just peachy, amazing in fact. Got a boob job, I’m feeling at my best. Can’t you tell?’ he does a little twirl.   
She purses her lips ‘You’re testing my patience, Winchester’  
God, why does no one have a sense of humour. Dean rolls his eyes and drops the act.  
‘What do you want me to say, Naomi? That I’ve been pretty frigging miserable? Or admit that I still can’t go around without blockers, because apparently I stink the whole place up? If you’re here to tell me it’s my own damn fault, don’t bother wasting your breath.’ he admits, frustrated. It’s not like it can get any more humiliating than this, anyway.   
‘Mmmh. Interesting’ she takes another sip of her drink. Dean is angry now, he would much rather lick his wounds in private, even if they’re old ones. But Naomi is impassive, shows no compassion and no emotion at his small outburst.   
‘Do you know anything about who substituted you after you left?’ she asks instead.   
‘No, why would I?’ Dean answers, irritated ‘Am not exactly thrilled at the thought of my replacement’   
‘Interesting’ she repeats and Dean grits his teeth, old instincts telling him that he can’t just tell his old boss to fuck off no matter how much he wants to.  
  
Finally she relents and sighs ‘Dean, in the three months you’ve been gone, we went through thirty-four different candidates. Some of them lasted a whole week. We almost threw a party for those. Others made it through a grand total of two hours. They were much more common.’  
Dean’s truly speechless now ‘What? Why?’ he asks, dumbfounded.   
‘Are you really as dense as you look? Because Castiel has been an absolute nightmare since you left, that’s why. He growled at his new assistants without fail, he threw out one of them after he found out he was called Dean, he insulted some of our best clients, he fired Meg…’   
‘He _fired_ Meg?’   
Naomi waves a hand dismissively ‘Oh nothing to worry about, she never went anywhere. She’s tougher than most, knew he was just being unreasonable. Anyway. We eventually had to give up and leave him to brood on his own. No one can stand his company, including me and that’s saying something considering I spent years working with him every day. Oh, and that I’m his mother, of course. Does this provide a clear enough picture of what’s been going on?’   
‘But… but… why? Castiel is always so calm. So composed, even when he’s angry. I don’t understand.’   
‘You don’t? Or you don’t want to? And yet it’s pretty simple Dean. He’s pining. Just like you probably are. And it doesn’t look like he’s going to get better anytime soon. So I will need you to come back to work as soon as possible, Dean, because the situation is untenable and the whole company is suffering from his moody nonsense. How does Monday sound?’

Dean drops the rag he’s holding, mouth dropping open. He must have heard that wrong, he must be having an elaborate hallucination. Because there is _no way_ that Naomi Novak is sitting across from him at the Roadhouse telling him that she wants Dean to come back and work for her alpha son who fired him three months prior because he was deceived, betrayed and lied to. He’s dreaming, he must be. He finally lost it.   
‘I would like an answer sometimes soon, if you don’t mind. Going after my son’s discarded flings in seedy bars is the last thing I would like to be doing on a Thursday night’ she snaps, looking at her watch.   
‘Yeah, right. Demanding for a hallucination’  
She snaps ‘Dean, please stop this skirting around the issue, it’s aggravating.’   
‘Naomi.’ He starts, careful with his words ‘Castiel _fired_ me. Not only that, he made it pretty clear he never wanted to see me again. Besides, you’re aware that this whole mess happened because I’m an alpha right? And I lied to the whole lot of you? I lied to you at the interview, I lied to Castiel for months, I lied to everyone else who ever worked there and thought that I was an omega. I’m still wearing blockers, but the cat’s out of the bag now. No going back. I’m _still_ an alpha.’

  
Naomi studies him from across the counter, no emotion evident on her attractive and severe face. She brings her hands closer and weaves her fingers together.  
‘Dean, did you honestly really think that I did not know you were an alpha from the very moment I hired you?’   
‘ _What?_ ’  
‘Did you really think that with all the security checks we put you through, the whole issue of corporate espionage, the company phones, the NDAs, the private security, _et cetera,_ somehow your presentation never came up? I had a background check completed on you before I even interviewed you. I knew about every single job you’ve ever had, every address you’ve lived at, every medical test result you’ve ever received, every grade you’ve ever gotten in school. Seriously, Dean. Who do you take me for?’  
‘Wow. Not creepy. Or legal. At all.’ Is all Dean can say. He’s so shellshocked his brain is refusing to process this.   
‘But… you treated me like an omega. The whole time!’ he tries to protest by hanging onto the only thing that makes sense right now.  
‘I treated you like a private companion.’ She says, tone harsh and impatient now ‘If _you_ made assumptions then maybe you and Castiel and everyone else should join a club.’   
‘If you knew, why didn’t you say anything? Not just to me, but to Castiel.’   
‘Why didn’t you?’ she counters.  
‘I had pretty good reasons!' he exclaims 'Like not wanting to lose the job, first, and not wanting to lose his friendship, later. But what reason could you have had?’   
She sighs ‘Dean, I know my son better than anyone realises, including himself. There is a whole host of reasons I did not disclose your presentation to him and they will remain between me and my son, at least until he wishes to make you privy to them. One thing I can tell you, however, is that at first I decided to give you a chance because of how different you were from the omega candidates, you truly _got_ the reason why alphas perform better if they have someone catering to their intimate needs during the day. It’s the kind of biological experience that an omega simply can’t have, no matter how knowledgeable they are. And then, later, how could I object to your presence considering that Castiel’s productivity had gone through the roof? Actually, I was rather proud of having hired you.’ she finishes, looking kind of smug.   
Dean is silent for a long time and thankfully Naomi doesn’t push. ‘Give me a call on Saturday at the latest’ she says eventually, before slipping off the stool and heading out.   
‘Hey, you haven’t paid for the Moscow Mule!’ Dean calls after her, but she’s already gone. Figures.

‘What she’s saying kind of… makes sense, actually.’ Sam comments later that evening, mouth half full of mash.   
‘Oh you think so, don’t you. Nothing about this makes sense Sammy. Nothing’   
‘Stop being dramatic. If you’re pining then he’s probably pining too, I don’t see how it’s a big surprise to you. It usually goes both ways.’   
Dean truly hadn’t thought about Castiel suffering physically as a consequence to his actions. It was bad enough that the guy had to feel betrayed and hurt without the nausea, sleeplessness, bone-deep exhaustion and all that jazz which comes with pining.   
‘Sam, I’m not pining, I'm just sulking. Pining only happens if you’ve scent bonded with someone. We haven’t. Hell, the guy went a year without ever knowing what I smelled like and _that_ was the whole problem, if you haven’t forgotten why we’re here.’   
Sam now looks at him like he’s being his own particular brand of stupid.  
‘Dean. This is like, 5th grade biology. Scent blockers only mask the _smell_ of your pheromones. That doesn’t mean you stop producing them or they stop being inhaled by who’s near you.’  
‘What… what do you mean?’  
‘Well, our brains rely on smell to read other’s people presentations and emotions, but you are still taking them in. They get read at an unconscious biological level, though, not a conscious one, so you don’t make sense of them in the same way. For example, I can’t really smell your presentation much just yet, because I’m unpresented. But when you’re angry or stressed for a few days, my body subconsciously reacts to the angry pheromones you’re pumping out and I also get on edge. My hormones react to yours. When you’re in a good mood, I relax around you. Do you get how this works?’  
  
‘Yeah, I… I didn’t actually know that.’ Dean admits, feeling embarrassed. One of the privileges of being an alpha is that he never had to bother much with this biology stuff, unlike omegas who get it drilled into their heads from an early age. For him it’s mostly about winging it when needed, no big deal.   
‘It’s because it has almost no bearing on everyday life. If someone’s wearing blockers, your brain automatically goes to visual cues to make sense of the other person’s actions and try to get a read on their emotions, ignoring the scent. Hormonal changes are too slow for the average social situation anyway.’   
‘So what does this have to do with Castiel?’   
‘Well, the two of you rolling around in each other’s pheromones for a year must have created the beginning of a scent bond. And, Dean, _he_ might have been unable to smell you, but you were getting his scent full frontal every day. So it’s even more likely, since only one of you was masked. I’m surprised you didn’t notice before, to be honest.’  
Dean thinks about it for a while and suddenly the weeks after the Christmas party make sense in a completely different way. ‘Son of a bitch! I was pining after Christmas because… my body thought he rejected me. I had rejection sickness!’ he exclaims, lightbulb going off in his brain.   
Sam just nods, smugly ‘Told you so. Also, now you have an excuse as to why you weren’t breathing down my neck every day like you usually do and it took you a full day to realise I was gone.’   
Dean pushes him gently by punching him on the arm. Typical Sammy, trying to find more ways to erase his guilt, as if his distraction is justified by the fact that he was being a pining idiot.   
‘So what are you going to do now?’   
‘I’m not sure’ Dean says, looking down ‘I don't think this changes anything. But I might call Naomi’  
  


He spends all of Friday trying to gather his thoughts. If Ellen notices his distraction, she doesn’t say anything. And she also doesn’t say anything about the fact that he’s not wearing blockers and this time his scent is… peculiar. He doesn’t smell rancid anymore but he also doesn’t smell like himself at all, but rather he smells of forest just before the rain and wet asphalt and of candle just put out. Like _anticipation._ He knows because Jo already stuck her nose in his neck and commented on the really odd scent he was pushing out. Finally, when he gets a break in his shift, he decides to put on his big boy pants and calls Naomi.   
‘Yes, Dean?’ she says, picking up.   
‘Huh, knowing you have my number saved makes me go all tingly’   
He can _feel_ the disapproval radiating down the line. ‘Are you calling because you made a decision or are you just trying to waste my time?’  
‘About that… Naomi, this won’t change a thing. Castiel still hates me and doesn’t want to see me. I have a solid job now, I’m not going to quit only to be kicked out of your son’s office as soon as he sees me.’ Well done, Dean. Being reasonable. It almost feels like a new thing for him.   
‘When is your first free evening?’ she asks, ignoring his words completely.  
Dean glances at the rota hanging from the wall just beside him ‘Working all of tomorrow night until close, but I have the day off on Sunday’   
‘Very good. Then please be at Castiel’s house at eight promptly on Sunday evening. Don’t wear scent blockers.’   
‘O-kay. Does he know that I’m…’  
‘Oh and Dean?’ she interrupts ‘Don’t quit your job’ and then she hangs up.   
Great. Nothing about this screams that she’s confident Castiel will want to see him. Just the opposite, in fact. Sighing, he gets up from the floor and heads back to the bar counter. Better keep himself distracted.

On Sunday night, as he makes his way towards Castiel’s house, he’s so nervous that he can’t even enjoy being behind the wheel of his Baby again. Why is he here again? Because his ex-boss's mum told him to. Right, that makes sense.   
Dean wants to see him, he _does,_ but when he thinks back at the many months of misery he’s suffered he isn’t sure that this is worth it. When Cas inevitably rejects him again, it’s going to get worse and Dean really doesn’t think he can survive it a second (third?) time. But Dean Winchester is finally done being a coward.  
When he rings the doorbell, Nadia opens the door and smiles at him. He smiles back at the familiar face.   
‘He’s round back, in the garden. Just go around the house.’ She tells him, before he can say anything.  
Dean makes his way through the rose bushes, heading for the little patio that he and Castiel have often sat on during the evenings he spent here.   
When he turns a corner, there he is. _Fuck,_ Dean is unprepared for the flood of emotions that come rushing in. Castiel’s sitting at the small wooden table, a book in hand as he reads in the light of the overhead hanging lamps.  
 _God, how does he look so good?_ Is the first thought that comes in Dean’s mind. He’s sure he looks like warmed up crap in comparison. But then as he walks towards him, Dean notices the dark circles under his eyes, the lines etched on his forehead, the stubble. Maybe he’s not the only one who’s had a hard time with this.   
Castiel hasn’t noticed him yet, so he advances a bit further and then clears his throat.

  
Castiel looks up and his mouth opens slightly. ‘Dean?’ his tone is surprised. Clearly he’s so taken aback he hasn’t had the time to get angry yet.   
‘Hey Cas’ Dean murmurs.   
‘What are you doing here?’   
Dean approaches, hands down in the pockets of his jeans, until he’s a few feet away.  
‘I came to talk to you. Didn’t Naomi tell you?’   
‘My mother? No? Did she put you up to this?’ he frowns.   
Typical fucking Naomi, Dean thinks. Sneaking behind everyone’s back as usual.   
‘She might have said something about what a peach you have been in the last few months’ he shrugs. He’s standing close to the table now, but Cas hasn’t invited him to sit so he just hovers awkwardly.   
‘I understand’ Cas says, looking away ‘Well, you are in no way obligated to be here. She is no longer your employer’ Dean can see his fingers tighten on book he's still holding.  
‘Yeah I get that, Cas. Thing is, I _want_ to be here.’  
‘Why? I thought our parting words were rather definitive.’ This time the words carry a bite.  
‘That they were. Which means you can tell me to fuck off at any point and I will. I just thought that if you’ve been feeling even a fraction like the crap I’ve have been feeling like in these past months, then it might be worth discussing it.’   
Castiel closes his book and stares at the cover, unblinking. ‘I am not sure what is there that’s left to discuss’ he says at last, voice rough.   
Wow, he’s _really_ not making this easy for Dean. Too bad. Dean deserves it.

‘Maybe the fact that we have both been pining? And that I’m pretty sure that’s not a standard reaction when your employer fires you. Or when he rejects you after kissing you at a party.’ Castiel flinches like he’s been burned, but Dean is done hiding.   
‘You have some nerve bringing that up.’ Cas comments, frowning ‘I can’t believe how guilty I felt about that. How much I chastised myself for taking advantage of my omega employee. And you didn’t even have the guts to come clean while I was there apologising to you’   
Dean feels the familiar stab of guilt.   
Yeah, he can see how there is really _nothing_ left to discuss, clearly.   
‘Not to be a dick, Cas, but I’m pretty sure that you ain’t supposed to make a move on any employee who doesn’t want you to, omega or alpha alike.’   
Cas opens his mouth, looking horrified once more.   
‘ _Not_ that this is what happened between us. Come on, you don’t need me to repeat to you how much I wanted you. How much you turned me on. You know that already.’ He mutters as he looks away, embarrassed.  
‘You _did_ tell me to stop, Dean.’   
‘Yeah, because I might be a dick, but even I draw a line at making you discover I have a knot only when you’re about to put your hands on it.’  
It’s Castiel’s turn to look away again, looking more tired than ever, though a slight blush seems to rise to his cheeks.   
‘Alright’ he relents finally ‘let’s go inside. It's starting to get cold.’

Dean knows it’s too early to count this as a win, but he can’t avoid feeling hope blossom in his chest for not having been turned away at the door. Except, he also knows it will hurt twice as hard when he has to quash it and stomp it in the dirt again. He’s under no illusions that he will get nothing more than closure tonight, but closure is what they both deserve. He follows Castiel, eyes slipping closed momentarily when he gets a whiff of the alpha’s musky scent. It’s very different from what he remembers, it’s all laced with pain and suffering and it leaves a bitter aftertaste on Dean’s tongue. And yet it’s still the most appealing thing Dean’s ever smelled, it just makes his chest _hurt_ with the need to make it better, to make it smell happy and full and rich again.

They make their way to the living room, which is now full of fresh flowers and has open windows to let the warm night air in. Nadia is nowhere to be seen. Dean notices that the pile of blues vinyls next to the record player has grown considerably since last time he was here.   
‘I see you haven’t abandoned your musical education’   
Cas follows his gaze and then smirks, a sad little smile. ‘Yeah, somehow I found it impossible to stop. Drink?’ he offers, moving towards the drinks cart.   
Dean shakes his head, wanting to keep a clear mind for tonight’s conversation. Castiel pours himself something amber-coloured from an unmarked decanter and then takes a seat on the couch.

The defeated and tired-looking alpha in front of him just does not match up with the angry, enraged and out-of-control Castiel that Naomi had been describing.   
‘So, uhm. How have you been?’ Dean asks.   
He gets a glare in return ‘How do you think?’   
‘Alright, so I’ll go. I have been pining. Hardcore. I almost throw up when I smell other people up close, I can’t have sex to save my life and no one can stand my scent at work, I wear blockers but this time it’s so that I don’t scare away the customers. Actually yeah, that part hasn’t changed much.’ He tries to deflect with a joke. Maybe it’s too soon.   
He watches as Castiel’s cheeks colour a bit even if the alpha isn’t looking at him. ‘I think your scent is just fine’ he murmurs. He ignores everything else Dean said. ‘How is Sam?’   
Dean doesn’t want to talk about Sam right now, not at all – no matter how much he loves his brother. But he recognises Castiel’s attempt for what it is and so he indulges him.   
‘He’s fine. School has allowed him to stay but they put a bunch of extra work on him. Joke’s on them though because he’s finally no longer bored because every class is too easy. So it’s a win-win. When we… uh… went to pick him up, you know, in Illinois, he had been left behind by some of his ‘friends’ who were trying to get him to take drugs and go out with some creepy older men they’d just met at a motel. Kinda glad he called me, in the end. Despite what happened because of it…’   
Castiel nods, serious, still not looking at Dean. ‘You are a very good brother, Dean. I hope he knows how lucky he is’   
‘Now, do you mind if I record you saying that so I can play it back to him?’ he asks. Clearly it works because Cas finally looks up at him, if only to level him with a half-assed glare.

‘Please, take a seat, you’re making me uncomfortable.’ Castiel admits finally and Dean gingerly takes his usual (ex-usual) spot on the couch, keeping his distance from Cas but at least sitting on the same piece of furniture. The situation is so odd, everything is up in the air. Dean knows that one wrong move and this all goes flying out of the window.   
‘I have been…’ Cas starts, licking his lips ‘Difficult to work with. Apparently.’ He rolls his eyes so hard that Dean has to suppress a snort at the sass. Dean really shouldn’t be thinking about how cute the alpha is when he’s grumpy. This is serious. They are finally talking, finally seeing each other after months, he can’t fuck up his only chance   
‘I have been trying to comply to my mother’s requests, but every single assistant she presents me smells… horrendous.’ He makes a face ‘They’re all sicky sweet or cloying or so flowery they smell like a funeral home. It drives me crazy. The only times I’ve been able to resist more than a couple of hours has been when I had a cold and my nose was blocked.’ He huffs, frustrated ‘And obviously, I am never going to suggest they wear scent blockers after… well.’   
Dean nods, understanding. ‘I guess that’s maybe why your mother was so desperate that offered me the job back, huh? No surprises here in terms of scent. Not anymore, at least’  
‘She _what?’_ Castiel exclaims, this time looking at Dean like he’s grown a second head.   
‘Uh… I guess she didn’t tell you that either?’   
Cas shakes his head vigorously before replying with a decisive, unwavering alpha tone.   
‘No, Dean. I could never work with you as my assistant again’

  
  
‘Oh. Yeah, yeah of course. I knew that’ Dean says, feeling hope deflate in his chest so fast that it’s making him dizzy. What was he thinking? After everything that’s happened, was he really so stupid as to think Cas would just take him back? He wouldn’t take himself back either, not in a million years.  
‘Dean’ Cas says, gently and Dean has to try and blink the tears away. He can’t be this stupid, he can’t be emotional, not again. But these past few months of agony have managed to beat him into a much weaker man that he was before.   
‘Dean, you know why. We have had a scent bond which lasted for months even without seeing each other. And it was formed while I couldn’t even smell you. Can you imagine what disaster it would be if suddenly we were thrust back in each other’s space like that? We would probably bring each other past the edge of madness.’

He’s right. Of course, he’s right. Scent bonds are rare, and they better not be messed with. It’s exceptionally uncommon, but he heard they can drive someone to insanity if thwarted repeatedly. Not that it’s going to happen to them, of course, but still… No matter how much Dean wants to pretend that the fact he’s an alpha doesn’t matter, it _does_ and that’s why this can’t work.   
‘And that was before I truly knew what you smelled like.' Cas continues 'There are no chances I could go back to pretending everything’s back to normal. I couldn’t let you put blockers on again and I couldn’t be around you if you didn’t.’   
Dean stays quiet for a while, considering Castiel’s words. He’s heartbroken, sure, but he’s also truly thinking about what the other man is saying.

‘Yeah, actually, Cas and that’s another thing that I keep rolling around in my brain and I just can’t make a lick of sense out of it.’   
‘What is?’  
Ok. This is the time. Now that he knows Castiel won’t take him back, he _literally_ has nothing to lose. Maybe this is making him a little bit crazy, but it’s also about time they both come clean.   
‘Fact is, Cas, that you smelled me! That night at the party, you smelled me and you said it shouldn’t be possible for me to smell that good. I thought you meant because I’m an alpha and we don’t smell good to other alphas? If that’s not what you meant, then what?’ Dean has had so many sleepless nights, tortured by the questions he just asked Castiel. Bouncing around in his brain over and over and over like a broken record that he can’t shut off.   
Castiel blushes fully this time, pink tinge colouring his cheeks ‘Dean, I was under the impression you were an omega.’ he says and then stops, looking at Dean pointedly.

‘Uhm, yeah? I know?’ Dean doesn’t understand what the man is implying. Castiel sighs, taking a deep breath.  
‘Dean, I am not and I have never been attracted to an omega scent in my entire life. Having an omega assistant worked because they could fulfil a biological need while remaining completely uninteresting to me. But you... you threw me for a loop.’ He laughs, a bit cynically ‘I was so confused for months. I liked you so much and I had _never_ liked an omega before.’ Dean sucks in a breath.  
‘I kept thinking that maybe I had become ‘normal’, maybe all of my mother’s prayers had finally been answered’ and there’s a definite bitter twist to his mouth now. ‘Having you in my home so often, seeing you in my space… I just kept picturing a domestic life I never once wanted, let alone with an omega. And then there you were, featuring in all my fantasies.’   
Dean is horrified. Thoroughly, utterly disgusted with himself.   
‘Fuck, Cas, I’m so sorry’ he whispers ‘I’m so fuckin sorry I had no idea how my lies were fucking you up like this too, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, not after that. This is too big.’   
It’s but a few moments until he feels a hand gently cradling his chin and pushing it up, tilting his head so that he can meet Castiel’s gaze.   
‘Dean’ Castiel says softly ‘You misunderstand me. You know what the first thought in my head was when I finally realised you were an alpha? It wasn’t ‘oh god how could he do this to me’ – well, that was my second – but for one irrational moment the only thing I could think of was ‘thank god’, because it meant that everything I had believed about myself was still true. All the fights, all the disagreements and the pain I put my family through and their disappointment in me was not for nothing. It wasn’t ‘a phase’ and it wasn’t a choice. I still liked alphas. Don’t get me wrong, ultimately I believe I would have fallen for you even if you were an omega. But I’m damn glad you’re not, because the thought of you having a knot makes my blood boil so hot, you have no fucking idea’ his voice ends the sentence with just an edge of roughness, just a bit of gravel. His fingers tighten just slightly before letting go of Dean’s face. Dean gasps.  
‘God, Cas’ Dean says, voice strangled ‘I sure love it when you curse’ This time, he’s blinking back a different kind of tears.

They sit in silence for a few moments, Dean’s mind is reeling from the new information he just acquired. Could it be? Could it be possible?   
Castiel just looks peaceful, like he’s had a long time to think about this so nothing has changed for him.   
‘Do you understand now why I can’t work with you?’ he says, calmly, after a while ‘I am obsessed with your scent. I have never smelled anyone so delicious. You make me go absolutely insanely crazy. I can’t have you with me wearing blockers, knowing full well what you smell like under them. And I can’t have you work with me without them, because I couldn’t focus on anything else but you. Even now… you have no idea how hard it is to keep myself on this side of the couch, Dean. Even when you smell as sad as you do. Even when I’m still angry at you.’ Cas says and Dean shivers at the voice, suddenly dropping lower as a low growl accompanies Castiel’s words.   
‘You make me dizzy. You make me want to act on my baser instincts, which I have kept under control for many years.’ _Oh god, please do_ ‘Besides, I don’t think it’s particularly healthy to put you in that situation again, especially now that you know your boss is attracted to alphas. It would cross all sorts of professional boundaries, _again._ ’

Dean just starts laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And by popular demand... Cas is back!!   
> With a few confessions of his own. I'm also curious to hear what you guys think of Naomi after this. Two big bombshells in this chapter, a few more loose threads to wrap up in the next!   
> Only one chapter left now, I can hardly believe it.


	12. Knots of various kinds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you don't mind cheesy because this is basically a grilled cheese sandwich. Enjoy!

The sky is dark outside the open window and the evening smells strongly of lilacs. Two men are sitting next to each other on the couch and to an external observer it might look like a lovely domestic evening scene. But if one were to get closer, they’d notice that while one of these men, Dean, is laughing hysterically, the other one, Cas, is just staring at him and visibly growing increasingly offended with every passing second. Almost bordering on pissed off.

Oh, oh, shit.

‘Anything funny?’

Oh shit, oh shit. Dean really needs to stop laughing because this evening just took a completely different turn from what he had been expecting until five minutes ago. He better just stop. Like, now.  
Taking a deep breath Dean turns to Cas.  
‘Are you saying… that you can’t hire me back because you _like_ me too much and wanna jump me? Because, Cas, that’s a hell of a problem to confess.’ 

Cas grumbles and doesn’t answer, but continues to glare in a way that makes Dean think he’s about to change the topic entirely. Which of course Dean won’t allow. Only Cas can confess his attraction and still manage to look as grumpy as that. But hey, at least they’re talking.  
Dean thinks it’s now the time to finally lay all his cards on the table.   
‘Listen, Cas. I know this doesn’t solve the initial problem, but I’d lie if I said it doesn’t make me so damn happy. What can I do to be forgiven Cas?’ Dean asks, not without some desperation ‘I will do _anything,_ now that I know what’s really at stake.’ he states, determined.  
Cas looks at him for a minute, contemplating, and then he looks away.  
  
‘I don’t think there’s anything you can do’ Castiel says and Dean tries not to throw up. This is a rollercoaster from hell.  
‘Oh, I see.’  
‘I have had time to think about what you said to me, your reasons for lying, and somewhere in the process my anger just dissipated. Don’t get me wrong, Dean’ he adds, serious ‘I am still hurt. I am incredibly hurt. But there’s nothing you can do or say to make it better. You apologised and you explained yourself and that’s all you can offer me, I know that. We cannot have any sort of personal relationship based on a year of lies, no matter how well-intentioned, and on a year of complete misconception on my part about who you are. We can’t just continue from where we left off.’  
Castiel then moves closer to Dean, sitting just next to him on the couch. He looks at him, pensive, tilting his head just so. Dean has nothing to say in response to that, so he just looks down, shoulders slumped and bitterness growing larger in his gut.  
‘So… that’s it?’ He’s ready to bolt and be done with this whole thing, when Cas extends a hand, rigid and stiff in front of him.  
  
‘Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel. I’m an alpha and I’m attracted to other alphas. You smell divine, may I offer you a drink?’  
If Dean were a cheesy person, he’d say that suddenly he feels like the sunrise just appeared in the room. That suddenly he can smell the sweet odour of those lilacs, he can feel the breeze of the warm summer night on his face, he can see Castiel in full colour. But he’s not cheesy and that’s ridiculous and absurd and so he doesn’t.  
‘Hi, Cas.’ he laughs instead, taking his hand ‘I’m Dean and I’m not normally attracted to alphas, but I’m crazy about you. This is corny as hell and you’re a frigging dork and I can’t believe you were baiting me like this, you have given so many heart attack tonight, but hell yeah I’ll take that drink now’  
Castiel smiles at him one of those gummy smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners and Dean thinks he looks magnificent, even with the dark circles and the rough stubble and the yellowish tinge to his skin.

They try to do it right, this time.

They talk and they tell each other real things. They know so much about one another already, but now Dean fills in the gaps and Castiel asks real questions. They talk about Dean’s dad. They talk about the summer he spent working at an alpha bar. They talk about Castiel’s deadbeat father and all the ways he fucked up Lucifer as if he was an experiment. They don’t dance around each other like they did before. The questions are direct, blunt, sometimes even bordering on harsh, but it’s better this way. And somehow, an hour later, Dean realises he still hasn’t let go of Castiel’s hand, thumb rubbing circles into his hot palm. Dean beams when Cas tells him that looking at Dean through the filter of his secondary gender is not really changing much of what he already knows about him.

That evening, they don’t even kiss. They both want to, so much, but each is so aware of how fragile their new equilibrium is, that they decide not to push it. They’re also absolutely exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster, so when Castiel walks Dean to the door at around 2am and they both realise how late it is, it feels like they’ve both been in a parallel universe for a whole month.

‘When can I, uhm, see you again, Cas?’ Dean asks, rubbing the back of his neck as he stands just outside Castiel’s front door.  
Cas tilts his head, considering. ‘I really don’t want to wait until Friday, because if I could I wouldn’t let out of my sight for even a minute. But if you’ll continue to keep me up long past my bedtime like today, then it better not be a weeknight or I’ll just fall asleep in my office.’  
‘We can’t have that. It would be the time that Naomi actually skins me alive. Tell you what, what if you come round to the Roadhouse one of these nights, we can spend my break together so you won’t be tempted to stay after I go back to work. And then on Friday I can cook lasagne for you and try and make you stay up way past your bedtime’  
Castiel grins ‘Deal.’

And Dean is so happy that in the next few days he can talk about nothing else. With Ellen, with Sam, with Jo, with any goddamn bar patron that will listen. So when Cas walks into the roadhouse three days later, even if Ellen and Jo have never seen the man in person, they know who he is immediately. He looks almost as out of place as Naomi, after all. They both stop what they are doing to stare at him before Ellen makes herself scarce so fast that it looks like she just vanished. Dean gets a towel thrown at his face and he has barely had time to noticed Cas but Jo is already hissing in his ear ‘You better be banging that, Winchester, or I will’ and then also bolts.  
‘Keep your underage hands off, Harvelle! This ain't for you!’ Dean yells after her, shaking his head. Frigging teenagers.  
Then he finally gives a long good look at the man walking towards him and, yep, he also wishes he were banging that. Cas just casually strolls towards the bar, still in his work clothes except his tie is now gone and his shirt sleeves are rolled up. Dean caresses those strong arms with his gaze and then swallows. Getting hard in the middle of his workplace would be all levels of awkward.  
‘I’m going on a break’ he yells towards the back and then just drags Cas to one of the booths, bringing two beers and ignoring everyone else.  
It’s not that he thought that Cas wouldn’t show up. Of course not, the man always keeps his word. But they haven't texted and maybe, just maybe, Dean has spent three days trying to convince himself not to hope too much. Maybe Cas would still decide he wasn’t worth the trouble, after all.

‘I see you take a lot more liberties here than you ever did when you were working for me’ Cas says, amused at Dean’s antics and with his head tilted towards the disgruntled patrons that Dean has abandoned at the counter. ‘This might make me feel special, you know’  
‘Oh, don’t flatter yourself. I took plenty of liberties, you just didn’t know about most of them’ Dean volleys back  
‘Well, let’s say that there were some _liberties_ you took that I didn’t mind at all.’ Cas says, placidly, amusement dancing in his eyes.  
Dean is still not used to Cas flirting with him explicitly and he almost blushes, before catching himself. He’s never been a blusher, too brazen and confident to ever consider being embarrassed at the suggestion of sex, so what the hell is happening lately? What is it about Cas specifically that makes him feel like a shy schoolgirl? Dean glances down at Castiel’s strong arms, peeking out of the tailored shirt, and swallows. He thinks he knows.

Unfortunately his break is only half an hour long and when Jo starts pelting him with peanuts from behind the bar, about an hour and a half after Cas walked in, he knows it’s really time to get back to work.  
‘Come on Winchester, mum doesn’t pay you to flirt!’  
Dean rolls his eyes and stands up ‘I’ll walk you out, Cas’ he says ‘These young generations are too disrespectful to know good manners’  
They head out together into the parking lot, both unwilling to let go just yet, and both unwilling to admit it.  
It’s only a few steps out of the door that Dean notices it.  
‘Is that what I think it is?’ he asks, gaping at the car parked in front of the bar. It can’t be anyone’s but Cas’s. There’s no way this beauty is owned by any of those poor sons of bitches who normally frequent this place.  
‘I gave Alfie the night off’ Cas says as confirmation.  
‘What is it, 1978?’  
‘1976 actually’  
Dean is by the car in a second, fingers touching reverently the hood of the blue Jaguar XJ 5.3.  
‘Man, is it a V12?’  
‘Yes.’  
‘Coupe?’  
‘You know your cars, Dean’ Cas says appreciatively.  
‘Of course I do, these are so rare, they produced like 2000 of them and that’s it!’ he exclaims, walking around it. ‘If I wanted to get into your pants before, now I’m ready to drop mine right here in the parking lot’  
Cas guffaws and smiles at his earnestness and jingles his keys in front of Dean’s face.  
‘Let’s make a deal. If your Friday lasagne are actually as good as you claim and they… t _horoughly_ satisfy me, then you can have a taste of my car’  
A burst of heat explodes in Dean’s gut at the suggestive tone and his dick twitches to life. He just hopes Cas won’t make him choose between riding him and riding the car.

*

Dean is a decent cook. He is. And he takes a lot of pride in his creations, especially his famous lasagne. Which is currently growing cold and mushy on the kitchen counter. But, remarkably, Dean can’t seem to care. Not when he has Cas leaving a hot trail of kisses down his neck and growling in his ear with that damn sexy voice of his. He has waited for this moment for about a year and a half now and Dean will be damned if he lets the thought of savoury baked goods going cold distract him from this.

‘Fuck, Dean. You have no idea what you do to me’ Cas is saying, strong arms caging Dean against the backrest of the couch, shirt untucked and half open, alpha scent spreading powerfully in the air. Dean can only moan, taken aback at Cas's sheer strength, finally unrestrained and unashamed, making it perfectly clear how much he wants Dean. He tightens his fingers in Castiel’s hair, mussing it to hell, holding that beautiful face close to him.  
‘All those times you pretended to be just an obedient little cockwarmer, but really you were just sucking me off. Looking up at me with those big green eyes like you couldn’t help yourself. Taking me so deep, so well…’  
‘Shit, Cas, shit.’ Dean gasps, shoving a hand down his pants and grasping the base of his dick and squeezing, trying to calm down. ‘Never took you for someone who likes to dirty talk.’  
‘There’s a lot about me that you’re about to find out, Dean’ Cas growls, nipping on his scent gland and Dean’s dick twitches again like it’s decided that that’s it, it's go time.

‘But we’re going to do this right.’ Cas continues, dragging his lips around the shell of Dean's ear ‘So the choice is up to you. I can take you up to the bedroom now and show you what it’s like to fuck an alpha. Or we can have a lovely chaste dinner eating your lasagne. And then decide where to go from there’ and just like that he draws back, giving Dean enough space to breathe. Of course he’s got to be the considerate one even in this state of horniness. Dean looks at him: Cas’s pupils are blown wide, his hair is sticking up like he was electrocuted and there is a tantalising bulge tenting his dark jeans. It’s a mixture of cute and hot that makes Dean inhale sharply.

‘Cas, it might be my first time with another male alpha, but it ain’t my first rodeo. If we don’t get this show on the road like _now,_ you’re going to give me permanent blue balls.’  
‘Right’ Cas growls, and gets up, dragging Dean with him.

They rush their way up the stairs and Dean catches sight of a slightly bemused Nadia in the corridor, but they don’t stop long enough for anyone to react. He’ll have to apologise later. Or, like, avoid her forever.  
When they finally get to the bedroom Dean decides it’s time to give as well as he’s getting.  
He catches Cas and pushes him against the door, holding him with his forearms.  
‘Alright, Cas. Show me what you’ve got’ he murmurs, and nips at Cas’s jaw as he unbuttons the last of Cas’s shirt.  
When Castiel’s tanned chest is in full view, he rubs his hands over it reverently. It’s a block of muscle, not too bulky or ripped, but solid. His eyes slip close unintentionally as he inhales the amazing alpha musk of this man. God, it makes his head spin when it’s this strong, this potent. And Cas is clearly not having an easier time dealing with this, hands rubbing up and down Dean’s sides as he inhales close to the skin of his neck. In a second, Dean’s also freed of his t-shirt, which gets thrown to a corner of the room.  
‘God, Dean, I’ll never get used to your scent. You’re just… so perfect, it’s incredible. I can’t believe I had this so close to me for a whole year and never noticed. I want to devour you, Dean. Will you let me?’  
Dean gasps ‘I will agree to you doing pretty much anything to me right now. But it’s my turn.’  
  
Dean’s under no illusions that he’s dealing with a powerful alpha here, but he’s an alpha as well, and old instincts die hard. He craves control right now, wants to break Cas down to pieces, until he’s _his._

‘Strip’ he orders and he steps back, as Cas bites his lip and suppresses a growl, the excitement of an impending fight for dominance making him shudder. He all but rips his trousers off, and discards his socks quickly. Then, shamelessly, he drags his boxers down until all that’s left is Castiel’s tanned skin and his beautiful hard cock sticking up, huge and delicious looking. Dean snarls, before grabbing Castiel and throwing him on the bed.

He bends down, capturing his lips in an open mouthed kiss which quickly moves to Castiel’s neck and the beautiful tendons right there. And this chest, _oh,_ his beautiful chest. That deserves its own moment of worship. Dean sneaks out his tongue, teasing Cas with bites and kisses until his whole chest has been mapped.   
Cas groans, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, tensions in his whole body evident by the way he’s trying to keep himself under control.  
Dean doesn’t even break pace and he sneaks a hand down Cas’s front, between their bodies until he finally grabs Castiel’s hard length and starts to stroke, fast, with no adjustment times or teasing touches.

‘Oh God, Dean’ Cas half growls half moans, noise reverberating in the darkened bedroom and against Dean’s skin. Dean doesn’t let up though and tightens his hand around Cas’s length. God, this is so good. There is a sheer pleasure to be found in having another alpha at your mercy, their hard and thick length throbbing between your fingers. How has he never done this before?

‘You like that, little alpha?’ he murmurs, teasingly ‘like my hands all over you? Gripping your cock, stroking you hard?’  
Cas doesn’t respond, but make a noise like he’s been stabbed and then suddenly he’s throwing Dean off, aggressively, and flipping Dean onto his back on the bed, reversing their positions.  
He’s so close that hot puffs of breath from his mouth are caressing Dean’s face and Dean for a second isn’t sure if they’re going to fight or fuck. He’s never seen Cas this out of control.

‘Have you ever been fucked, Dean?’ Cas murmurs then, before shifting down in order to drag Dean’s own trousers and boxers off and pushing him back down.  
‘I… fuck…’ Dean splutters. He didn’t really think of the logistics of how tonight was gonna go, in the last few days he found that he was completely unable to think about sex with Cas, wanting it too much to even try and ruin it with a half-baked fantasy or expectation.  
‘Would you like me to?’ Cas asks, face dipping down to rub his stubble on the sensitive skin of Dean’s inner thigh.  
‘Fuck _yes_!’ Dean exclaims. He’s a ‘try everything once’ kinda guy, and right now he probably wouldn’t deny Cas anything.  
‘Don’t move’ Cas orders and then he’s gone. He returns after a few seconds, presumably from the adjacent bathroom, with a fancy-looking bottle of lube.  
‘You’re going to like this, I just know it’ he says, and then sets out to blow Dean’s mind.

He starts by leaving gentle kisses around Dean’s dick, which is straining so hard that it’s about to turn purple, Dean is sure. He’s sucked Cas so many times in the last year and here he is now, so close to having the favour returned, but not yet satisfied.  
Cas moves to his balls then and laves them gently with his tongue, teasingly, all while looking up at Dean from between his legs. ‘ _Fuuuuuck,_ Cas, come on’ Dean mewls (though he’d never admit that’s what it is)  
And then Cas is hovering just above his dick before… he bends down and suck Dean into his mouth in one go and that’s it, Dean has officially died and gone to heaven. Cas’s hot tongue strokes the sides of his cockhead as he works his length deeper and deeper into his throat.  
‘Oh god, oh fuck, Cas, oh…’ Dean babbles, eyes closed and head thrown back. It’s the absolute best blowjob he’s ever had because, fuck, because it’s Cas! He needs to seriously focus so he doesn’t just shoot off like a rocket and retain some dignity.

He’s about just calmed down when he feels a finger gently breach his hole, delicate but certain and Dean makes a choked noise at the unexpected feeling.  
‘Oh. Wha-’ and Cas pops off just enough to shush him.  
‘Ssssh, Dean. Relax. I’m going to open you up nice and slow. Get you ready for my knot.’  
Dean inhales sharply, but doesn’t answer, instead focusing on _not. coming._

And true to his word, Cas starts fingering Dean gently, first one finger, then two. Dean makes another desperate whine when those two fingers start scissoring him, but it turns into full-on whimpering when a third finger is inserted, stretching his rim wide.  
‘Oh fuck, this is so weird, Cas fuck. Am I ready? Come on, Cas, get to it, _fuck,_ you’re killing me’ he groans, twisting and shifting on the bed. Not even the amazing blowjob is enough to distract him now. He’s so ready, he feels so oddly wet, so oddly spread out. It’s only a couple more minutes before Cas withdraws completely and wipes his fingers casually on the duvet cover.

Then Dean has a front view to Castiel Novak crawling on top of his body like he’s about to eat him alive.  
Cas pushes his legs open at the knee and wraps them around his own hips, bringing his face close to Dean.  
‘Are you ready, Dean?’ he asks, voice even rougher than usual due to his arousal.  
‘Yeah, Cas, fuck yeah! Fuck me’ Dean says and then Cas bends down, capturing his mouth in a heated kiss as he brings his hips forward.  
‘Mmmmph’ Dean makes a choked noise as he feels the hot tip of Cas’s dick press against his hole. This is such a weird experience, but Dean is secretly thrilled at being so caged in by Cas. He trusts the older alpha with his life and right now, he just wants him to take him apart.

Cas pushes in a bit further and breaks the kiss, gasping as his cockhead fully pops in and then it’s like he’s falling, hard cock sheathing itself inside of Dean until they’re pressed together as close as they can get. Dean can feel the weight of Castiel’s balls press against his asscheeks and for some reason _that_ ’s what makes him wild. He cants his hips up, moving into the stretch, and arches his back.  
He makes a sound he didn’t even know he was capable of, desperate and _filthy,_ Cas’s dick stretching him a foreign, spectacular feeling.

‘Yeah’ he murmurs breathily ‘like that. Give it to me, Cas’  
With a snarl, Cas grips his hips tightly and draws out, before punching back in. It takes a few more thrusts until Dean's rim unclenches enough for him to truly go to town, but then all bets are off.  
Cas inhales once and then starts fucking Dean, like he really means it. His hips move in powerful thrusts, strong thighs moving and shifting as he slaps against Dean’s open thighs.  
‘So good, Dean’ he says ‘Been wanting to fuck you for so long’  
‘Cas’ Dean feels a pang of longing at that and he inadvertently clenches down, squeezing Cas’s dick in his channel.  
The alpha curses and picks up the pace. He is fucking Dean in long movements, drawing almost completely out before pushing back in, but this leisurely pace is bound to pick up quickly. And that’s when Cas brings a hand down and grabs Dean’s forgotten dick.  
‘Oh _shit, no!_ ’ Dean yells, approaching the edge of an orgasm at breakneck speed.  
‘What?’ Cas asks confused, but doesn’t pause his movements.  
‘No, Cas, I wanna come on your knot, not yet, not yet’ Dean sobs, shaking his head and trembling with pleasure. He needs to hold on, needs to…

Suddenly Cas is pulling out and Dean mewls, desperate, irrationally afraid that Cas is suddenly going to stop fucking him. But he’s just flipping Dean over, turning him on his knees and spreading his cheeks with his hands, opening him wide.  
‘You want my knot, you _take_ it, Dean’ he growls and then pushes back into Dean. Oh god, this angle is _so_ much better. He can feel Cas so deep, he never knew it’d be this good. Dean isn’t sure if he’s saying it out loud, but he can feel Cas’s dick truly plunge into him at the perfect angle now, balls slapping against his own, as Cas picks up the pace and nails his prostate at every other trust. It’s only a few minutes later that he feels Cas’s dick starting to expand, the base hardening slowly, knot swelling.  
Dean can hardly breathe, Castiel’s knot now pushing insistently at his rim. He holds him breath in anticipation as the hardened flesh presses and presses, _in, in, in_ but his body doesn’t let up.  
‘Cas, fuck, put it in me, please, please’ he moans, desperately. And then three things happen at the same time, Cas’s knot finally pops past his ring, Castiel snarls, feral, above him, and then he promptly loses control and starts slamming into him.

Dean screams, body and mind on fire as he rendered useless by the pleasure. Cas is riding him wildly now, pushing into his body and rolling his knot aggressively against his prostate. ‘Fuck, fuck, Cas, please’ Dean sobs again, incoherently, breath coming out in punched out huffs following the rhythm of Castiel’s thrusts.  
_‘Mine’_ Castiel growls and suddenly Dean feels his ass being hoisted up as strong hands wrap around his hips and pull his ass up in the air. ‘AH!’ Dean screams again as Cas now moves him like a toy to be fucked into, pulling him against his dick to be impaled even deeper and swiveling him on his knot like he’s just a prop for Castiel’s pleasure.  
Dean’s never _ever_ in his life been manhandled like that. He’s always been the one throwing his partners around but now he’s just being pushed and pulled by Castiel’s strong hand like he weighs nothing. And then Castiel shoves an arm under him, so that he can keep him ass-up as he fucks into him, while his other hand moves up to grip Dean’s hair and pulls, _hard,_ and that’s it. Dean comes screaming, white exploding behind his closed eyelids as his cock jerks underneath him, untouched, and spurt after spurt it makes a mess on the bed. Suddenly there’s a hand clamped tight around his knot as Dean must have died and gone to heaven because he can’t make sense of the pleasure anymore. He sobs, delirious as Castiel doesn’t let up but keeps grinding his knot against Dean’s prostate, unrelenting as he milks Dean’s own knot.  
‘Cas, Cas, Cas’ Dean moans, oversensitive and boneless, nerves alight with so much pleasure it almost feels like pain.

‘Squeeze tight around me Dean, yeah, just like that’ Cas murmurs, voice rough and fucked out, demanding and hot as hell ‘Milk me with your ass, alpha, come on’ and Dean does, he doesn’t care about his own knot or about his own body, all he wants is to make Cas as deliriously happy as he is. He clamps down hard on Castiel’s knot as the man continues to use him as his own personal alpha fucktoy. Cas’s breathing turns heavier, faster and a low rumble accompanies every single movement. His scent spikes, strong and spicy and pure _alpha_ and Dean just knows Cas is about to come.  
‘Fill me up, Cas. Just like that, come on, get me full’ and that does the trick because Cas just throws his head back and comes with a low rough moan, emptying his balls into Dean who continues to milk his knot as he feels Cas’s come progressively fill him up. His ass is so stretched around Cas’s knot, but it doesn’t seal like an omega’s around it, and so come gushes out from between them, slicking their legs and their balls, dripping down Dean’s tights, and Castiel hasn’t even stopped coming yet. Dean can feel his dick twitch and his knot shift in his channel as his cum spurts inside Dean.  
'Fuuuck, this is so much' Dean moans, unused to be on the receiving end of an alpha load.  
Cas just chuckles darkly. ‘Get comfortable Dean. This will take a while.’ And then he gives another deep grind. ‘And then it’s _my_ turn’ he adds. Dean moans desperately. Yep, truly died and gone to heaven.

The next morning finds Dean and Castiel wrapped around each other, limbs interlocked in a way that makes Dean’s alpha instincts purr. They’ve been awake for a while, but utterly unwilling to move.  
The room’s a mess. White feathers are scattered down the side of the bed and on the floor, from when Dean bit and tore into the pillow on orgasm number… four? so that he wouldn’t sink his teeth into Castiel’s neck instead when he felt the older alpha tremble and come apart around his knot. A plate with a slice of cold lasagne rests on Castiel’s bedside table, remnants of a 1am snack from last night. But Dean can’t care much about much, happy to bask in their combined scents which _finally_ are allowed to intermingle and fill up the room. It’s heavenly. Dean feels their scent bond thrum, happily, satisfied, so strong it’s almost like a concrete thing tying them together. He can’t believe he didn’t realise they had scent bonded. It seems so obvious now.

Cas places a kiss on the top of his head and rumbles happily from deep in his throat.  
‘You know, I still can’t believe my mother sent you my way’ he murmurs after a long and cosy silence.  
‘Mmmh?’ Dean asks lazily from where he’s resting on Castiel’s broad chest. He drooled a bit on him, whoops.  
‘Why is that? She must have been sick of seeing you pining’  
‘That’s true’ Castiel says, raking his fingers down Dean’s scalp and making him purr with contentedness ‘But my… predilection for alphas has been a point of sore contention between us for many years. I went a bit off the rails a few years ago because of it, actually. It’s the reason why she works so closely to me now. For a long time my brothers didn’t think I could be trusted with my own company. Or anything, really’  
Dean wrinkles his nose in disapproval ‘And look at you, proving them all wrong. Besides, I can’t imagine someone not trusting you? You’re like, the poster boy of responsible behaviour.’  
‘Yeah, well…’ Cas shrugs and returns to petting Dean’s head, a low pleased rumble coming from his chest. ‘Still is incredible to believe she finally relented.’  
  
‘Cas… you know she knew I was an alpha even before she hired me, right?’ Dean asks suddenly, looking up from Cas’s chest. He only just figured that he might not know this rather important element.  
‘Really? No I didn’t’ Cas says. He seems surprised, but not angry. Dean is, though, in a low-key, easy-to-put-off-until-later way. How much longer will Naomi be allowed to manipulate Cas?  
Just one more item to add to the list of things that Naomi kept hidden from both of them, then. Fucking typical.  
‘You don’t sound angry’  
‘To be honest with you, I probably will be. But right now, with you in my arms, I am finding it extremely hard to think I’ll ever be angry at anything ever again’  
Dean purrs and places many small kisses on Cas’s chest, tracing a path up to the alpha’s neck.  
‘So you went off the rails, huh? Are you secretly a bit of a rebel? Did I get in bed with a badass alpha?’   
Castiel flicks one of Dean’s ears as punishment for the teasing. ‘One day I’ll tell you the full story. But I’ll give you a snapshot: it involved a bong, a pizza delivery gone wrong, my friends Rowena whom you’ve met before, two alpha strippers and Anael’s brother. Let’s just say I ruined family dinner that Christmas.’  
Dean booms out a laugh at the completely unexpected list of ingredients for this saga. ‘One day. I’ll hold you to that. If not, I can always ask Meg’  
‘She does have a frightening ability to know everything about everything’ Cas agrees. Then he flips Dean over and returns the barrage of kisses. They don’t talk much after that.

*

Looking back, it’s easy to forget about the exceptional amount of pain and stress and despair which marred their first year of acquaintance. There were so many exciting and truly happy moments, after all, that those tend to occupy the forefront of any trip down memory lane. Dean will conveniently remember the bad ones, too, but only when it suits him best. Like right now, for example, as a sweat-dripping Sam is glaring at him from the entrance hall of the house.  
‘I’m not about to stuff my face with cholesterol, Dean!’ he snaps  
‘And why the hell not?’  
‘I’ve just gone on a run, Dean! That would undo all my hard work.’  
‘Well, that’s just bad planning on your part, then.’  
Sam huffs and rolls his eyes.  
‘It’s not like I can ever get the two of you to get up before eleven on a Saturday anyway. What am I supposed to do, twiddle my thumbs?’  
‘Yeah! You twiddle those thumbs until they’re sore if that’s what will get ya to have some damn bacon with your brother, Sammy! You owe me that much.’  
‘It’s Sam!’ he whinges ‘And I don’t owe you bacon, Dean’ he says, petulantly, stomping up the stairs towards the shower.  
‘We’ve given you a roof! We’ve given you a home! Next time you run away from home I won’t be coming to get ya, ya ungrateful bastard. How can you disrespect bacon like this!’  
Yes. Dean has a sort of selective memory when the time requires it, sue him. Anything that will be a good excuse to fuck with his brother is free game, even memories which were once painful but which have now been mellowed by years of happiness.  
Sam huffs so loudly that Dean can hear him from a floor below  
‘Will you ever stop bringing that up?’ Sam yells ‘I didn’t _run away!_ ’  
‘I’ll let you rot in goddamn Illinois, Sammy! I'm telling you!’ Dean yells back, before smirking to himself and heading to the kitchen to make the biggest stack of buttery bacon pancakes he can imagine.  
‘Shut up, Dean!’  
‘Great comeback, for someone who’s supposed to be a _lawyer_!’ Ah yes, Dean, the king of comebacks. 

‘What’s all this noise?’ Cas asks, emerging suddenly from god knows where.  
He’s still looking sleepy, rumpled in a way which delights Dean each time he gets to see it. He loves this Cas, the private version, so much more than the always-neat, always-controlled Cas he got when they were working together. And that’s saying something, considering how gone he was on the man from day one.

‘Just making sure Sam remembers his place in this household’  
Cas smirks as he pours himself a mug of coffee.  
‘And what would that be?’  
‘I don’t care if he’s six months away from graduating from Stanford or any of that fancy shit. Once a little bitch, always a little bitch.’  
‘Gendered slurs, Dean’ Cas rebukes him half-heartedly.  
‘Oh god, not you too’ Dean groans, throwing up his arms. ‘That’s it. I give up. Next time he comes home for the summer I’ll go to Hawaii for three months and leave you two alone here to discuss social justice.’

He turns around and starts working on the stove and has to fight to hide a grin when Cas’s arms come to encircle him, just as he starts cooking the first pancake.  
‘Mmmh, grumpy. What do you want to do today?’  
‘I was thinking of spending a couple of hours at the garage. That 1970 dodge challenger might need a second paint job and it’s better if I do it today so that Monday I can finish her up. Plus I’ve got a quick oil change to do on the Continental.’  
Cas grunts his displeasure ‘I can’t believe that people were worried about _you_ marrying a workaholic. I am the one they needed to be concerned about.’  
Dean grins.  
‘Mmmh, but what if you come with me and you can read your books while I work and you can bitch about my music and then I’ll take you and Sammy out for dinner to celebrate the success of the garage?’  
Cas is still making grumpy noises, so Dean turns around and hugs him back, holding him between his arms.  
‘Will you be wearing a t-shirt?’ Cas asks.  
‘I can…’  
'The white one?'  
'Sure'  
‘Will it be all wet and oil-stained?’  
‘I promise’  
‘All right, then.’  
Dean feels Cas’s lips twitch upwards from where they are pressed against his neck and he can’t stop his own broad smile. God, he’s such a lucky bastard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh guys, I'm almost teary-eyed! I loved writing this fic so much, and I loved how so many of you have been following it consistently and letting me know what you thought at every step of the way. It really feels like a collective effort and I want to thank you all so much for giving it your time and attention, you have been a wonderful audience. 
> 
> Sooo, this was the last chapter. Mostly porn and fluff because these boys goddamn deserve it after the rollercoaster I've put them through.
> 
> I've got a feeling there will be perhaps a couple of timestamps coming in the future (though not too soon). One of them is most likely going to be about them giving each other mating bites, because not including it would be like disrespecting the trope. So if you don't want potential future plot spoilers DON'T READ THE SUMMARY BELOW.  
> These are just a few notes about the situation we're at, at the end of the fic. Obviously time has passed, so I thought I'd let you guys know how I imaged these few years going for the boys: 
> 
> *Summary*
> 
> -Cas and Dean have been together for eight years by the end of this. Cas is 42 and Dean is 31. They got married two years ago and they live in Castiel's house, where Sam has his room to visit in the Summer and during the holidays.  
> -Sam got a full ride to Stanford and he's about to graduate from law school, which means that Dean was suddenly in possession of a nice amount of savings, which he put into opening his own classic cars restoration garage. Of course, Cas helped substantially, despite Dean's unending complaints.  
> -Naomi did end up taking a step back from breathing down Castiel's neck after he settled with Dean. She's still meddling and bitchy, but a lot more manageable now that she has grand-pups on the agenda.  
> -Anael/Jo married Michael, then divorced him to marry Lucifer, then divorced him, then married him again, until he decided to disappear from the face of the earth. She moved to Paris to be an earring model. Naomi went from attempting to push her onto her children to flinching every time someone mentions her name.  
> -Cas doesn't get a new 'omega companion'. He flat out refuses to ever have someone who is not Dean touch him, so now he just attends business meetings by himself. He had to give up going to a few fancy restaurants, but he doesn't give a damn. People seem quick to give him a free pass when they learn he has an alpha mate. Dean is very pleased by the whole thing because he would probably tear the throat out of anyone who dares putting their paws on his husband.


End file.
